


Captured Hearts

by morgana_fire



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Happy Ending, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Males, Some angst, because thats how i roll, but kinda isn't but is at first, completed fic, destitute Hobbits, lots of fluff later, noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-07-16 13:10:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7269619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgana_fire/pseuds/morgana_fire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo Baggins is born an Omega male, able to bare children.  With his clan desperate for a home and food they make a bargin with a Lord who will provide for them if Bilbo gives him a child.  Just before they are to comsumate the union the Lord dies.  Lobelia comes up with a plan that will either save them or ruin them.  A naked dwarf is tied to the bed in front of him and Bilbo is expected to...to...oh sweet Yavanna.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is complete, I just need to go through each chapter and clean them up with a bit of editing. If there are any glaring errors please let me know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **So the wonderful Megara09 has beta this fic and helped to clean it up for me. Mega kudos for her and her talent!!**

The Man was dead. Dead, dead, absolutely dead. Bilbo paced back and forth in front of the bed, fingers twisting against each other. What was he to do? He bit his lip as tears filled his eyes. How could this have happened? Well, the man was old, but to die before…before… Oh he couldn’t even finish the thought! All of it made him sick to his stomach. He had prepared himself for this night, mentally and physically. It was his duty to his clan, his family. And now he felt like an absolute failure.

What would happen if the Lord’s men found out? Would they blame him? Execute him, maybe? Or would they simply dismiss the contract? That wouldn’t be good, not good at all. Not that Bilbo wanted to have anything to do with the old Lord in the first place, but it was the best they could find, the highest offer, and Bilbo’s people were starving. Helis breath began to come too quickly as panic overtook him. How many more loved ones would he watch die? The slow death of starvation was ugly, and the family had given more to Bilbo so he wouldn’t be so thin. It was all so he could seem more appealing for a contract. It had worked, until now.

Oh, why did the man have to die?

The door swung open and Bilbo jumped, eyes going wide as a small squeak escaped him.

“Hush, it’s just me,” Lobelia growled as she marched over to him. Her husband, Otho, followed behind her and waited by the door. She grabbed Bilbo’s arm a little too tightly and began to drag him to the door. “You know what needs to be done,”she said to Otho as they passed him. 

He nodded once, and then Bilbo was out in the hallway and being led toward a set of stairs.

He was painfully aware of his attire - a thin bathrobe that barely went past his knees - but he was too afraid to say anything. Lobelia stopped at the foot of the stairs and grabbed a cloak from a hook on the wall and gave it to him, pulling one around herself.

“Put it on”, she ordered.

Bilbo did as he was told. At least the cloak made him feel more decent, as it went all the way down to his hairy feet. Lobelia reached over and yanked the hood over his head so that his hair and practically his entire face was covered and cast in shadow. She did the same with her own hood, grabbed his arm, and pulled him out the door.

“Stay quiet, do not speak, and stay close.”

The cool crisp air hit him, but Bilbo had never felt more vulnerable than he did now. This was the type of night he would be reveling in; spring had arrived, which meant a time of rebirth and renewal of hope. The smell of freshly turned dirt, the feeling of a decent hard day’s work in the gardens or kitchens. Now, all he felt was his doom and his body trembled with it.

Lobelia was quick on her feet and Bilbo had to pay attention as she turned one corner, then another and another. She stopped at the door of what appeared to be another inn, but on closer inspection, Bilbo could see that it was no inn. 

He gasped and pulled back. “We c-can’t go in there,” he whispered. “That’s a place of…of…” The red lanterns beside the door told him all he needed to know. 

Lobelia grasped his wrist painfully and leaned in close to him.“You can and you will Bilbo Baggins,” she hissed. “This is all your fault. You want us to lose this contract?” Her voice was hard, cold. He could only shake his head, fear closing his throat. They entered the building and she moved quickly through the open room, past another area where laughter and music could be heard. The melody floated out towards them and the lyrics made his face hot with its bawdiness.

They finally stopped in front of a door where a huge, bulging-muscled man stood guard, arms crossed as he leaned against the surface. Lobelia nodded, and he stepped aside so they could enter. It looked to be a typical room with the essentials and necessities for a woman of the evening. 

Only, there was a man sprawled on the bed. On closer inspection, it appeared that he was…tied to the bed. Bilbo blinked and turned to look at Lobelia.

“What…?”

“You will copulate with him so we can salvage this night.”

Bilbo felt his heartbeat thudding in his chest as he glanced back over at the bed. “I don’t understand?”

“Of course you don’t,” she snapped, voice a harsh whisper. “With the Lord dead, our contract with his people will be broken and we will receive nothing. That means no land, no seeds, no crops will be planted, no shelter. What do you think will happen when winter hits?” She pushed him up against the door. She was a little taller than him and leaned down so that her face was next to his. “Do you think we have time to find someone else so generous? If we don’t act now, we will lose everything. And unfortunately you,” she spat, “are our only hope.” She pulled off his cloak and yanked him closer to the bed.

“He has the same coloring of the Man when he was younger - dark hair, blue eyes to ensure there will be no questions to the child’s parentage.” 

As Bilbo looked at the man on the bed, he noticed an obvious problem. “But, he’s a dwarf.”

“And you’re a Hobbit. That should be reason enough if the child is shorter as he grows. He should wake soon. Do not untie him, do not take the gag off him. You do know what to do right?” 

Bilbo felt the blood draining from the top of his head to his feet, making his world tilt dangerously. “You want me to…to…” He had to take a few steady breaths. “Take advantage of him? Rape him?” The last part was a horrified whisper, and yet it felt like it vibrated loudly through the room. 

The sudden slap was hard and snapped his head to the side with a painful crack. “You will do what needs to be done!” Lobelia slapped him again. Bilbo took a step back, cowering before her. “This is our last chance and you will not ruin it.” She raised her fist and Bilbo held up his hands.

“Yes, yes, cousin, I’ll do it,” he agreed quickly, attempting to save himself from a beating.

“Good,” she nodded. “Do not think about leaving this room. I have hired that man outside to stand guard. I will be back before dawn.” She took a few steps towards him. “If you don’t do this,” She forewarned with a hiss. “I will make sure you wish you are dead. There are several patrons here that would pay a good sum of money to have a go at you. Do I make myself clear?” Bilbo could only nod in response to the hissed question. “Good,” she barked, then turned and left without another word.

As soon as the door closed behind Lobelia, Bilbo sank to the floor and buried his head in his hands as sobs wracked his body. The tears felt hot as they fell, and his cheeks hurt where Lobelia had struck him. He felt sick and wanted to puke. Taking a few deep breaths of air, he got himself under control and stood. His legs were a bit shaky, but he made himself walk over to the side table where the wash pitcher sat and splash some cool water on his face. He prayed to what gods would listen to help him get through this. If not, he knew that Lobelia would follow through with her threat.

He decided to imagine this dwarf to be the old Lord. So he began to prepare himself, pushing his feelings and emotions down to a dark place within him until he felt nothing. He was still scared and sick, but at least it was more manageable. With a deep breath to fortify himself, Bilbo turned towards the bed.

X

The room spun as it slowly came into focus. Thorin had to close his eyes as it seemed to tilt, taking a deep breath through his nose. What had happened? His arms and legs didn’t seem to want to obey him, and he wracked his brain trying to remember. Images came to him: a city, dinner with the Mayor, walking back to the inn to meet up with Dwalin and then…nothing. He opened his eyes and tried to sit up, but nothing was working. Moving his arms, he realized the problem. It wasn’t that they weren’t responding, it was that he was tied down. The bonds gave a little leeway but not enough, and he still felt too weak from whatever he had been given to break free.

The next thing Thorin noticed was his lack of clothing. This was not good. Dwalin was going to be pissed with him. He had assured his Captain of the guard that he could make it back to their inn in one piece and that he didn’t need an escort everywhere he went in this small city. Mahal take it, he would never be left alone again and he almost groaned at the thought.

Well, whoever had kidnapped him was doomed. Dwalin would find them and kill every last one of them. And not only that, but they would have the wrath of the Dwarven kingdom of Erebor bearing down on them. The Mayor of this town and all involved had declared an act of war with this treatment. Thorin would see to the perpetrator personally.

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and Thorin turned his head, noticing the gag in his mouth. He had to blink his eyes a moment for the room to come into focus. For a brief moment, he thought it was a human boy. But as he drew nearer, Thorin threw that idea out. The being was short, but not a man or boy, but something else. In fact, he seemed shorter than a dwarf - Thorin was sure he would tower over him.

He started yelling but nothing comprehensible came through the gag so he gave his best glare and still spat insults at him. The short man stared at him a moment - his eyes seemed a cross between brown and green, and the color seemed to change color back and forth in the light. His hair was colored honey gold, and full of curls. Thorin caught a glimpse of a pointed ear on one side of his head. Not a man then, but not an elf either. A Halfling? Thorin had heard of them but had never met one.

“I’m truly sorry about this,” the Halfling said, voice low and flat. There was almost no emotion in his tone. His hand reached over and ran down Thorin’s chest. Thorin stilled, his blood going cold. No, this couldn’t be what he thought it was. They wouldn’t dare do this to him, a descendant of the noble line of Durin, to the King of Erebor.

The hand paused a moment then began to travel down to his lower region. Thorin moved into action or at least tried to. He pulled at his arms and legs and cursed, to no avail. The hand touched him and Thorin paused, tense. He was vulnerable here and in a position of such degradation, one that Thorin had never been in before. Clenching his teeth against the cloth in his mouth, he waited for pain or torture. He had survived battle before, he would survive this too.

All that came was a gentle caress, a hand slightly callused yet soft stroking him. Thorin opened his eyes and glared at his captor and sneered. Well, as much as he could through his gag. The Halfling could stroke him all he wanted to, but Thorin was still in control of his body. He would not give this deviant the satisfaction of whatever perversion he was looking for.

That was until the Halfling climbed onto the bed and in between his bound legs. Thorin watched with widening eyes as a hand lightly grasped his still-soft member, angling it upwards as the smaller male leaned over and took him into his mouth. Thorin shuddered at the wet heat that surrounded him and at the gentle sucking. Closing his eyes, Thorin tried to fight against the pleasure that sparked within him.

It had been too long since he had sought such company. He should have listened to Dwalin all those years ago and taken a concubine or two to keep him satisfied until he wed. At the time, he’d felt no need for it. As King, he was so busy and really had no interest in such matters. But now, as his blood began to warm and his cock began to grow, he began to curse his previous decision. He flexed his hands open and shut around the rope that tied him to the bed and yanked on them. It was sturdy and held strong, but he was soon losing the battle to control his body. As he grew harder, the Hobbit’s mouth and tongue began to explore, at times taking only the tip of Thorin’s length between his lips and sucking before sinking as far down as it could before pulling back up and repeating the process.

A small whimper escaped the Halfling and sent a bolt of electricity straight from his groin to his head and Thorin’s eyes flew open to look down. The sight that greeted him made his cock engorge fully. The Halfling had his eyes closed and his cheeks were flushed. He now had both hands on the dwarf’s prick. He could see that his girth was wide, the other being’s small hands unable to close completely around it. When his eyes opened, they looked up at Thorin. There was something in them that made heat and desire flare through Thorin.

His captor pulled off, slowly drawing his mouth upwards, his eyes on Thorin completely. Once the Hobbit had pulled away, Thorin was transfixed as a pink tongue darted out and swiped across the head of his cock then licked those swollen lips like it was the best thing he had ever tasted. Thorin shook his head, trying to clear it, but that too failed as the Halfling climbed up and straddled him. The insides of his thighs were slick and wet, minor details that Thorin noticed but couldn’t concentrate on, especially when the Halfling took hold of his cock, lined him up and sank down his length.

Thorin thought he was tense before, but now all his muscles seized up as white blinding pleasure shot through him. He knew he yelled around his gag, his hips thrust upwards, and head tilted back with his eyes closed. The tight heat that encased him was overwhelming. A few shallow breaths later and Thorin relaxed enough to open his eyes. The Halfling sat on him, hands fisted almost painfully into the hair on his chest, his head bowed. He looked tense, and Thorin briefly wondered if he was in pain. He couldn’t even see if the Halfling was aroused or not since he had a bathrobe on. It was bunched in front, so even if he was hard, Thorin couldn’t tell.

His captor rotated his hips slightly and Thorin forgot to breathe. The movements became smoother and bolder, and the Halfling gasped. The sound reminded Thorin to remember that he needed some air, and he took in a deep breath through his nose. A deep, low moan filled the room as the Halfling began to really ride him, rising up and slamming back down. Thorin grunted as he tried to time it and thrust upwards as much as he could. He couldn’t stop it, couldn’t help it. All he could do was ride out the pleasure that was coursing through him. It had ignited a fire in his veins, a need so strong that it took over his ability to think straight. He was soon grunting, could feel the drool from the gag getting soaking wet from his saliva and run down into his beard. He didn’t care.

The Halfling bit his lip as another whimper escaped him, and Thorin wanted to kiss that mouth, to hear what he was trying to keep quiet. The sounds he would make. The smaller creature shuddered and all thought fled Thorin as he was squeezed so tightly all around that he couldn’t stop his orgasm from racing through him, causing the room to spin and all sound to cease momentarily.

Slowly, the sound of his own heavy breathing through his nose reached his ears, and then the rest of the room came back into focus. His chest heaved, his heart hammered, his limbs relaxed from the force of it all. Thorin could feel the weight of the slight body still on him and one other slight problem.

He was still hard.

Thorin’s brows furrowed as he tried to string two thoughts together. The Halfling was also breathing heavily, his head bowed. And then he moved and Thorin shuddered. His nostrils flared at the sweet scent that filled the air. It was a heady scent and it made Thorin grin crookedly behind his gag. Like it was the best thing in the world. He felt like he had just emptied a whole barrel of Porter’s finest beer all by himself, which fueled him to move. He thrust upwards sharply, which made the Halfling squeak, and thrust again; well, as much as he could anyways. It felt so good. So good that he could do this all night; if only his hands were free, and his feet and the gag out of his mouth would be good as well. But for now, he would only do what he could.

Thrusting upwards a couple of times in quick succession got the Halfling moving. Those hands sliding up his chest, carding through his hair there. They came to rest on his pecks, tugging slightly before moving back down. Thorin moaned as he was ridden again, the Hobbit bouncing, his tempo getting faster and faster, his own soft cries mesmerizing. The sweat was glistening on his pale skin and he quickly removed his robe, revealing himself to Thorin. It made him salivate, looking at that soft skin, the small pudgy stomach, the swollen cock that he could finally see. Thorin’s eyes fixated on it as it bounced and rubbed against him. He wanted to feel it, to taste it.

As if reading his thoughts, the Halfling reached down and began to stroke himself. Thorin encouraged him through grunts and moans, even though he wasn’t understood. He watched, mesmerized, as the Hobbit moved, and then that sweet pink cock spurted lines of white across him and another orgasm ripped through Thorin. The pleasure not as intense as the first one, but not any less enjoyable.

He wasn’t sure how long this went on, or how many times he came. He just knew it felt so good that he almost didn’t want it to stop. Exhaustion finally wore him out and as he came one last time, he lay back, limbs relaxed, body sated and eyes closed. He gave a small grunt as the Halfling collapsed on top of him, but couldn’t be arsed to open his eyes or care. A bone weary heaviness settled over him. Heaving a sigh around his gag, Thorin fell into a peaceful darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo is pregers and finds out an angry Dwarf is after him, much to his dismay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not like this chapter, not one bit. I went over it and over it and over it and I still don't like it. Maybe it's all the exposition, I don't know, but meh... I'm moving on to the next one.
> 
> **beta update by Megara09**

Thorin stretched, feeling pleasantly rested with a good ache in his muscles as if from a good workout. And then the memories flooded back, his shock at the remembrance causing him to bolt upright. Glancing around the room, he could see that he was alone. His bonds had been removed and a blanket - which had now fallen down to his lap - covered him.

He had rope burns on his wrists (and most likely his ankles), but they had been treated with some kind of ointment. He could smell the healing herbs that had been rubbed into his skin. Thorin flipped the blanket back and could tell he had been cleaned off as well. Like nothing had happened. 

Standing, he went to where his clothes were folded in a chair. Anger coursed through his veins as he looked through his belongings. Everything looked to be there, even all of his weapons. Sitting on top was a small brown pouch. Lifting it, he could immediately tell that it held coins. Upon opening the pouch and glancing within, he could see that it indeed held several gold coins.

Fury flared through him and with a yell, he threw the pouch across the room where it impacted against the wall, causing some of the coins inside to fly out and clink to the floor. His chest heaved with some unnamed emotion for a moment before he began to yank on his clothes, jaw clenched.

Thorin stormed to the door and practically yanked it off its hinges as he stomped out. A few curious eyes looked towards him but quickly looked away at the sight of his black expression. Glancing around as he came into the heart of the place, Thorin felt a knot of dread forming low in his belly. He knew of this type of establishment - just a glance at some of the thinly-clad employees told him all he needed to know. Thorin was in a brothel and he, the King of Erebor, had been treated like a common whore, used and paid for.

A portly, balding man ahead was talking with another when Thorin shoved him up against the wall, knife held to his throat. “The Halfling, where is he?” he growled.

“H-Halfling?” the man squeaked.

“Hey now,” the other man said as he took a step closer to them.

“Hold your distance,” Thorin snarled. “I am Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror. You will go get my men at once at the Red Bull Inn.” He didn’t even look to see if the man left but heard him scurry away. His eyes locked on the man before him and he pressed his dagger a little tighter against his throat, causing just the tiniest bit of blood to bubble. “Now,” he said softly, dangerously. “Where is the Halfling?”

“I-I don’t know any H-Halfling my Lord.”

“A Hobbit then?”

“Nay, I do n-not know any.”

Thorin’s hand fisted in the man’s clothes and he easily dragged him back towards the room he had come from. Upon entering the room, Thorin practically threw him inside. The man stumbled but caught his footing before falling down. “He was in this room.”

The man looked around and back at Thorin, a puzzled expression on his face. “This room belongs to Elena.” 

Thorin clenched his teeth. “Find her and bring her here then,” he ordered the man.

“At once!” The man bowed and scampered out of the room.

“Thorin!” Dwalin’s voice echoed from down the hallway, and he went to the door where his friend, cousin, and Captain of the guard appeared, several of his men in tow.

“Where in Mahal’s name have you been? I’ve had my men scouring the city for you.”

“I was detained by force in this room,” Thorin spat out, his jaw beginning to hurt from clenching it so hard.

“Detained? By whom?” came the sharp reply. 

He could feel Dwalin’s gaze on him, looking up and down while assessing for injuries. Thorin filled him in quickly and watched as the same anger filled his friend.

“I will fucking rip him apart,” the taller of the Dwarves muttered.

The proprietor returned and bowed profusely. “My Lord, no one can find her. She hasn’t been seen since early evening of last.” He took out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his forehead, his face pale. “If anything untoward has happened, please accept my apologies.” 

Thorin stormed past him. He just needed to get out of this place and get some fresh air.

Inside he could hear Dwalin barking orders at his men in Khuzdul. They would search every inch of the place until Dwalin was satisfied that who they were looking for was not there. Two guards stood just behind him, ordered to keep him in sight. It wasn’t long before Dwalin joined him.

“They will let us know if they find anything. What are your orders?”

“When the Halfling is found, I do not want him harmed - bring him to me to deal with. I need to speak with the Mayor of this city and move on from there. We may need some inside assistance.”

“I’ll send for Nori. If anyone can sniff out a possible inside plot, it’ll be him.”

Nodding, Thorin headed back to their Inn, Dwalin close beside him along with the two guards that he was sure wouldn’t give him a moment of peace or quiet. Images flashed through his mind from the previous evening and he tried to shake his head clear of them. But no matter how hard he tried, that damn Halfling persisted. His scent, even in memory, made his fingers itch and his cock twitch. Mahal take it, but he still wanted the villainous little creature. He needed to speak to Balin. But first, a cold bath and then some food. He was starving.

XXXXXXX

Heaving a sigh, Bilbo paused to smell the peonies that were blooming. He reached over and cut a few and added them to his basket. They would make a lovely addition to his room, along with the poppies he had already collected. 

At least he was allowed to wander the garden; it was a refuge for him, an area away from all the gossip and the stares he received from the other men and women at the castle. His escort - or shadow, as Bilbo called him in the safety of his own mind - stood at the only entrance to the floral area, keeping an eye on him. Really, what could happen to him here? Unless they were afraid he would run away... Which he wouldn’t do. Where would he go if he did? Besides, he had signed the contract.

He gave another soft sigh and sat down on a bench that faced a fountain, his attention drifting to watch several small colorful fish dart back and forth from under the green flora that floated there. A soft gust of wind lifted his curls and he heaved another sigh. It had been two months since that night and Bilbo still couldn’t get the memories to leave. The smell and feel of that dwarf, the way his body responded so eagerly- But guilt followed shortly whenever he thought of that night, and his part in violating the other male. It was enough to upset his stomach.

His heat had come on so quickly and overtaken Bilbo so thoroughly that there wasn’t anything he could do. It was his first, and a new experience for him, so he just chalked it up to being an omega male. No one really knew what to expect, since they were a dying breed. He knew some things about his heat, which would have made it easier, but the consuming fire of want and need was something he hadn’t been prepared for. The thought that it was supposed to have happened with the Lord caused him to shiver. It was a curse and blessing.  
Bilbo knew that, long ago, omega males were more common and very desirable, this having to do with their heat and the pleasure they brought to the bed, along with being able to bear children. But men, even omegas, were not meant to birth children, and their bodies just weren’t made for it as women’s were. Where women could have multiple births with little to no complication, an omega’s chances of survival were slim to none. Bilbo wondered why there were even omega males to begin with if this was the case. And yet here he was, an omega; his clan hadn’t had one born to them for hundreds of years.

When the plight came and ravaged their land, the plague wasn’t too far behind. It wiped out many Hobbits, leaving them destitute and having to wander, looking for a new home. Many blended into towns of Men and worked as cooks and maids. But others chose to stay together, determined to find a new home. That had been so long ago, even before Bilbo’s mother’s time. That was how the Tooks and the Baggins clan became one - with the marriage of his father and mother. Even though it was an arranged marriage, it was one filled with love. A few other clans had joined the Tooks and Bagginses, along with other Hobbits who wanted to find a new home. The Sackville-Baggins clan was one such clan who joined them, which Bilbo didn’t like to think about, with Otho and his awful wife Lobelia. But their little tribe of families was slowly growing again. He was told tales of times when Hobbits lived peaceful, plentiful lives with large families and seven meals a day. He would sit near his Grandfather and listen as they told those tales of happier times.

With his birth came hope, a sign of new beginnings that their people would find a new home, one where they could prosper and grow strong again. But just the opposite happened. It seemed like no matter where they stayed, nothing would grow or very little took root. They continued to wander, searching for a home and land that would suit them. When Bilbo turned twenty-two, the Fell Winter came and many perished. Some due to the cold, some the lack of food, and many more to the wolves. They were hard times. A council convened, and it was decided that they would use Bilbo to acquire a contract with a High Lord to give them land, along with food, shelter, and seeds; in return, Bilbo would produce for them an heir.

It took time to find one that was willing to pay for the barest of their necessities. Not many were interested in an omega male, despite the legends associated with them. What good was an Omega male who could produce a single heir, compared to a female who could produce several offspring in a marriage.?t was a depressing thought.

Belladonna was livid that they would use her son in such a manner and ranted at her father, the Thain. It took Bilbo a long while to calm her down, to convince her that it was the right thing to do. Their people needed food and shelter, what choice did they have? She had pulled him close and cried. Belladonna refused to stay and watch as they auctioned off her son as if he was nothing more than cattle. The next morning, she and Bungo had left, and Bilbo had watched them go. Bilbo hadn’t seen his parents for several years now, and he hoped they were doing well. 

Finally, a deal had been struck. Lord Efren was just the kind of Man they were looking for. He preferred the company of men to women and so he had no heirs, and he had been willing to deal with them. He was very aged, hair gone grey and thinned out, body stooped and wrinkled with age spots and watery blue eyes that leered at Bilbo all throughout the meetings. It was a very uncomfortable situation, but Bilbo endured until an agreement was reached.

And with a snap of the fingers, it all fell apart. When Bilbo felt his heat approaching, they had summoned the Lord, who quickly arrived at the city they had reached. But just before they could consummate, the Lord had died. It was quick and sudden and had left Bilbo staring with shock at where he lay on the bed.

Brought back to the present by the splash of water as a fish startled, he reached a hand down to rub at his still-flat belly. Bilbo was now with child, even though it wasn’t the offspring of the Great Lord of this castle. Guilt racked him at the lies and deceit they told the descendants here. Well, mostly that was Lobelia and Otho’s doing. They were able to convince Lord Efren’s men that he and Bilbo had consummated the contract before he had died, and that Bilbo now carried his child.

It was, in fact, the dwarf’s child he carried. “Oh little one,” he thought, “I hope you never find out this deceit.”

He could still remember the taste and feel of the dwarf, on his tongue and deep inside of him. That first penetration was so painful, even though he was slick from his heat. But a deep urging had overtaken him, an itch that needed to be satisfied. It was like he was no longer in charge of his body and it did what it wanted, how he had ridden that dwarf, and it felt so good. Bilbo’s face heated just at the thought, embarrassed by those actions. The way the dwarf had grunted and thrust up into him had only encouraged that need within him.

It was a small blessing of Eru that he had awoken before Lobelia had shown back up. Bilbo was plastered to the dwarf’s side, head resting on his chest, arm thrown across it as he snuggled against him. He had drawn himself back in horror at his actions. He could see how red and raw the dwarf’s wrists were from pulling on his ropes. Bilbo had quickly cleaned him up, tending to his wounds and made him decent by the time Lobelia arrived.

Shaking his head to dispel the thoughts, he stood and turned to leave. It was nearing lunch time, and he thought he could keep something down this time. Mornings hadn’t been kind to him, but as the day progressed he could keep something down. The Lord’s men weren’t too happy about their leader’s demise, but his council had agreed that the contract stood firm as long as the child Bilbo delivered was whole and healthy.

As he left the gardens, his shadow followed closely behind. A group of maids were cleaning and chatting, but as he neared, they all stopped talking until he passed them. Their whispered words weren’t very quiet behind him.

“There he is!”

“So strange, a pregnant male. Can you believe it? Tis not right - men were not made to bear children.”

Another woman tutted softly. “Unnatural, it is.” 

Bilbo kept his head up and just ignored them. It was the same wherever he went, throughout the castle or even the village on rare occurrences. He was different - an omega male and a Hobbit; neither seemed quite welcome here.

Arriving at his rooms, Bilbo went and retrieved a vase and began to arrange the flowers he had gathered, setting it over by the window, next to the chair he favored, when he was done. It wasn’t long before a knock sounded and the door opened. His lunch had arrived.

“Good afternoon, Bilbo, how are you feeling today?” the young woman asked. She was kind enough but still held her distance. Isabel was her name, and she was the only one that brought him his meals. Bilbo knew that she reported back to the council on all that went on within his rooms, which truth be told, wasn’t very much.

“As well as can be expected. Feeling better this afternoon. I think I can keep down a bit more today.”

“Tis good news then. Need to keep your strength up for the baby.”

“Yes, of course,” he answered back automatically. It was so discouraging really. No one expected him to survive and seemed only concerned for the health of the child. Bilbo had no qualms with this, as he wanted the child to be born big and strong as well. It was just….lonely.

It still pained him and sometimes he wished… Well, it didn’t matter what he wanted. All he knew was that Prim would be getting something to eat every night and that Hamfast and Bell wouldn’t lose another baby due to the cold or lack of food.

“There ye be, Master Baggins. I’ll be back shortly for the dishes.”

“Thank you Isabel,” he told her as she left. The food smelled good, and his stomach stayed calm, which was a good sign. He breathed in the smell, looking down at the thick soup and a nice loaf of bread with cream and butter on the side, along with a pot of tea. It was like a feast compared to what he was used to having. Bilbo ate until he was full, and for once felt like it wasn’t going to come back up. Yawning, he decided to lay down for a nap and then work on the new crochet pattern his aunt had sent him. It at least kept him busy during the day.

When morning arrived he was violently ill…again. Bilbo clung to the bowl in front of him as he emptied the contents of his stomach. It was a daily occurrence, but still left him a bit shaky and ill afterward. Isabel took the bowl and he wiped his mouth taking a few sips of water from the glass nearby. Then he laid back down on the bed. A cool cloth was placed on his forehead.

“This should pass in another month or so,” Isabel said.

Bilbo gave a small weak chuckle. “I hope so. I was hoping I took after my mother as she was never sick.” 

Isabel hummed. “Me cousin on my da’s side was sick every day of her pregnancy. Could keep nary a thing down poor girl. Even during the day, so at least you are only affected by the morning sickness.”

“Well, that is good to hear,” he said dryly, although the thought of being sick all day every day was almost terrifying. A loud commotion from outside piqued Bilbo’s attention and he sat up, looking towards the window. Shouting and yelling could be heard through the opening, and for some reason, this caused his heartbeat to quicken.

Isabel ran towards the window and gasped out loud.

“What is it?” Bilbo asked as he quickly got out of bed and headed towards her.

“We’re under attack!” As soon as the words left her mouth a warning bell sounded throughout the castle.

“What?!” he exclaimed as he looked out the window. Armed men could be seen running, taking their place along the stone wall. Others ran, swords at the ready, as they headed towards the front gates. Screams could be heard, and the clang of steel on steel. Fear turned his blood cold and Bilbo turned towards Isabel, but she had left the room. Not sure what to do, Bilbo quickly got dressed just as one of his guards appears.

“Quickly, we need to get you to a place of safety.” the guard said as he took hold of his arm, practically dragging Bilbo behind him. The fighting had begun to make its way inside the castle, and each noise and shout made Bilbo tremble all the more.

What was going on? Who was attacking them? What would they do to him if they took the castle and found out he carried the Lord’s heir? His stomach rolled uneasily and he covered his mouth with his free hand. This was no time to be sick. Even though there was little in his stomach, he still didn’t need to embarrass himself anymore.

They came to an entrance near the courtyard and the guard stopped short. There was a small skirmish ahead of them, and Bilbo could see several of the castle men already littered along the floor. But it was the dwarves that caught Bilbo’s attention.

Sweet Yavanna, Dwarves.

As if sensing his thoughts, one of them spun towards him. Bilbo gasped, eyes going wide as fear and panic filled him.  
It was the Dwarf. The one from the brothel, the one that he…that he…oh sweet Yavanna. Bright blue eyes locked on his and there was a deep dark satisfaction in them. The sight of it made Bilbo take a step back, and then another until he was yanking his arm out of the guards grasp so he could turn and run. He didn’t know where he was going, only that he had to get out of there.

He burst out into the early morning light as the fighting and screaming echoed around him. Bilbo didn’t even know where he was, he just ran. Up ahead he saw the stables and hope flared through him. Maybe he could find a horse to escape on! As soon as he entered the building, he realized his mistake.

The horses were massive, and if Bilbo wasn’t careful he could easily be stepped on. He glanced around, trying to see if there was anything else he could use. Bilbo looked over his shoulder and whimpered as the dark haired dwarf appeared at the door. His vibrant blue eyes scanned the area and spotted him immediately.

Backing up, Bilbo’s eyes quickly search for something, anything that could help him. As he passed an empty stall, a flash of sunlight caught his attention. He dived into the empty stall and squeezed through the loose boards. He was almost too big, and just as he was about through, a hand grabbed hold of his foot, trying to pull him back. Bilbo kicked out, hearing a loud curse from behind the wood. His foot free, Bilbo squeezed through the hole and ran. A large banging sounded against the barn wall, and Bilbo winced as he looked over his shoulder.

A wave of dizziness slowed him down slightly, but Bilbo pushed on until an arm wrapped around him and lifted him off the ground. He screamed and kicked out until his arms were pinned to his sides and his mouth covered.

“Quiet! We need to get you out of here.” Relief filled him and he went limp, recognizing the voice as one of his guards. The man didn’t put him back down, though, and instead carried him like a child. Bilbo wasn’t going to complain about that at the moment; he was too terrified.

“Hold!” a voice yelled out. “Your keep is surrounded - there is no hope for escape.”

Bilbo was gently set down and placed behind his guard, who stood with a sword at the ready.

“What is it you want, Dwarf? Why have you attacked us? We have no quarrel with you.”

“You have something that belongs to me.” And, oh, it was him, the dark-haired dwarf, as he stepped forward with several armed dwarves behind him. Some with axes and swords, a few with bows and arrows pointed at them.

“What could we possibly have?”

“The Halfling, the child he carries is mine.”

“Impossible, the child is Lord Efren’s heir to the Kingdom,” the guard scoffed.

Bilbo swallowed and felt his heart sink into his stomach. Who was this dwarf that he would spend so much time to find him and cause a war just for the sake of a child?

The dwarf chuckled without mirth and sneered at them. “The child is mine, is it not Halfling?” That word was spat out and made Bilbo flinch. The man looked down at him and Bilbo swallowed and took a step back.

“Is this true? The child you carry is the dwarf’s?”

“I-I well, you see, things happened and…I-I…”

“IS IT TRUE?!” the man yelled this time.

Bilbo blinked as his eyes watered up and lump filled his throat. “Yes,” he whispered.

“Deceiver!” the man snarled, and he backhanded Bilbo which sent him flying to the ground. Bilbo coughed and could taste the tang of blood in his mouth. He looked up, wide-eyed, at the guard who was about to bring his sword down upon him. An arrow embedded itself into the Man’s arm, prompting him to drop his weapon with a pained shout and spin back around.

“You will not harm him. We will take the Halfling and leave you in peace.”

The man nodded as he clutched at his arm, blood seeping between his fingers. “Get the piece of filth out of here and pray we never lay eyes on him again.” 

The dwarf nodded and muttered something to his men. Two of them came towards Bilbo, one of whom helped him to his feet and pulled him towards the others that were beginning to retreat back through the castle gates. So many dwarves. Bilbo swallowed and knew he wasn’t going to be able to keep his stomach calm. Who was this dwarf that had such command of a sizable army? This did not bode well.

Surrounded by armed dwarves, Bilbo was escorted out of the castle. It was all a blur as his head spun and fear coursed through him. It was no secret that he was shaking like a leaf. Outside of the village, he was placed upon a pony and led away at a quick pace. No words were said to him, and he was always surrounded by dwarves. Bilbo thought this was a bit much, as he didn’t have anywhere to go, even if he did try to escape. They traveled until the sun was low in the sky, at which time they paused to make camp. By then, Bilbo was numb, exhausted, and frightened. He felt like this was all some kind of nightmare that he would hopefully wake up from soon.

As camp was made, he was positioned towards the center. They all kept their distance, though. Bilbo watched them as they spoke to one another - some joked, some laughed, and more than a few looked at him curiously, but none approached him. They spoke in their language, so Bilbo couldn’t understand what it was they were saying. He felt a pair of eyes on him and he turned his head slightly, only to see the dark haired dwarf staring at him. Bilbo felt his face go red and he ducked his head. He pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them as he stared into the small fire in front of him.

The smell of food being prepared wafted towards him, and soon a bowl was placed in front of him. He looked up at a large burly dwarf, whose head was bald and covered in tattoos.

“Take it and eat,” he ordered in a deep, gruff voice. 

Bilbo sat up and reached for the bowl, which was filled with a rich and hearty rabbit stew, along with a large chunk of bread. His stomach grumbled, and he realized that the last time he had eaten was the night before, seeing as he had thrown up that morning. It wasn’t the first time he had gone that long without food, though.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, always with his good manners - he was still a Baggins after all. The large dwarf grunted and walked away. Left alone, Bilbo slowly ate his supper, trying not to devour it like he really wanted to. When he finished, he set his bowl down and stared into the fire once more, wondering what was going to happen to him now. Not only that but what was going to happen to his clan?

Now that his deceit had been discovered, they were sure to be cast out…again. Or worse. He had to close his eyes at that thought, trying to keep his tears at bay and the panic pushed down. They would be fine, they had survived worse, and everything would be alright. Bilbo repeated the words like a mantra, trying to calm his nerves.

He jumped when a hand took hold of his chin and tipped his face to the side. Bilbo’s eyes went wide when he saw it was the dark haired dwarf. The firm grip on his jaw brooked no room for argument, and Bilbo swallowed as the dwarf inspected his swollen cheek. His thumb rubbed across his cheek gently before releasing him. The dwarf took out a small jar and smeared some ointment on his fingers, bending forward to begin spreading it over the injured cheek. It stung slightly, but Bilbo kept silent. The air was tense and uncomfortable between them.

“What is your name?” the dwarf asked, his voice gruff.

“Bilbo. Bilbo Baggins.”

“I am Thorin Oakenshield,” he said as he finished rubbing the ointment in and sat back. “You belong to me now. Do not think about escape or running off. Even if you do manage to do so, there is nowhere you can go that I will not find you. Do I make myself clear?”

Bilbo cast his eyes downwards and nodded. “Yes,” he said softly, tears filling his eyes.

“Get some rest, we leave at first light.” 

And then he left, and Bilbo heaved a sigh of relief. He sniffed and rubbed at his eyes. There was some bedding nearby, so he spread it out near the fire and laid down. It was a long while before he fell asleep, as too many thoughts raced through his head, his future uncertain. Eventually, he must have fallen asleep, for just before morning, he was scrambling to his feet to retch out the contents of his stomach in the bushes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is going to show my age, but i've had a few pregnancies. And thank god I was never ever sick. Although I've had sisters and Aunts who have been. One of my sisters was so sick she had a hard time keeping down water.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they finally arrive at Erebor and Bilbo finds out the power Thorin holds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off thanks to all those that have left comments and Kudos!!! It has lifted my spirit and heart during some hard times. Just a reminder that this story is complete, just need to polish the chapters a bit before publishing them. I really don't have a beta, so if you find anything too harsh and glaring please let me know.
> 
> **Beta update by Megara09**

Thorin kept his eye on the Halfling - on this Bilbo - across the camp as he thought back over the last few weeks.   
With the help of Nori and his special few, they were able to locate the Hobbit. Things changed slightly when Thorin found out he was…pregnant. He had heard of omega males, but they hadn’t been seen for hundreds of years in Erebor. Balin confirmed much of this from what Thorin could piece together from that night. And there was no doubt in his mind that the child the Halfling carried was his.

Hearing the confirmation from the Halfling himself had only cemented his fate. Thorin was conflicted with various emotions. Rage, anger, disbelief, lust - he wasn’t sure which ones to filter out and which ones to give in to, so he just settled on cold indifference. And yet, when that Man had struck the Hobbit and was about to cut him down, Thorin had about lost it. That man had no idea how close he had come to losing his life that day. It was Dwalin that had stayed Thorin’s hand.

His one interaction with the small creature so far was to tend to his bruised cheek, which had also been slightly grazed. And Thorin had finally learned his name; he just couldn’t keep calling him the hobbit or Halfling. Yet now, he kept his distance. Dwalin took him his meals and made sure he was looked after, but as far as he could tell, the Halfling was self-sufficient. He did as he was told, cleaned up after himself, and stayed silent. He would pull out his bedding and build his little campfire when they stopped for the night and was ready to go in the mornings.

After he threw up in the bushes, that is - something he seemed to do every morning. When Dwalin had first approached him about it, the Halfling said it was normal and should go away in another month or so. Thorin didn’t like it. He would have Óin check him out as soon as they reached Erebor.

What he really wanted to do would have to wait. He still desired the Halfling, to the point where it was almost an obsession, which infuriated him even more. Thorin was itching to touch him, his own body half ready to go at all times, and just the tiniest thought would have him hard and aching. He ground his teeth together and tore his eyes from off the small creature as he practically tossed his meal into the fire. Dwalin only raised an eyebrow at him.

“You can go over and talk to him ya know.”

“Fuck you.”

Dwalin chuckled at that. “Aye, it’s not me you want to fuck, but ‘im. Have you thought of what you’re to do once we reach home?” 

Thorin deflated a bit at that. “He carries my child; my choices are limited.” It was one of the reasons they had decided to quickly assault this Lord Efren’s castle. It was such a minor kingdom compared to Thorin’s, but after he heard that the Hobbit was pregnant, he was worried something would befall the Halfling and the child he carried. He had planned it so that the attack was ruthless and quick, and they definitely hadn’t expected it. It had gone far more smoothly than even Dwalin had hoped for. 

Now he had to figure out what he planned to do with this Bilbo Baggins. It was a moot point, really. Thorin knew what he was going to do with him, but there were other…complications. (Most of which had to deal with dwarven laws more than anything else.)

They traveled quickly back to Erebor; with the roads clear and his dwarrow in good spirits, they made good time. Thorin finally breathed a sigh of relief when the Lonely Mountain came into view. A peace filled him and he gave a small smile. 

Home. He had been away for far too long. 

He pushed their pace a little harder, not stopping until night had practically fallen upon them, and started again just before dawn. There were no complaints from the troops, as they wanted to be home as much as he did. More laughter, good-natured ribbing, and singing could be heard as each soldier felt the call to the Mountain.

As they drew closer, he pulled ahead with Dwalin and a small contingent of his personal guards, along with the Halfling - whom Dwalin led holding the reins to his pony. He grinned as the bells tolled and trumpets blared, welcoming them home. As they passed through the gates, cheers rose up from dwarrow lined alongside the roadway, as well as the merchants and commoners scattered throughout, as they continued to the stables. Once inside, they were immediately surrounded by groomsmen and servants, taking hold of the ponies and unloading them of their supplies. Thorin slid off his mount as his nephews barreled towards him. He caught them in a gigantic hug, lifting both of them off of their feet.

“Uncle!”

“Welcome home!”

“Fíli, Kíli,” Thorin muttered as he squeezed them and set them back down and looked at them. “You’ve gotten taller,” he said to Kíli, who grinned and was elbowed aggressively by Fíli.

“Don’t get too cheeky, brother, I can still whoop your arse.”

“Only half the time,” Kíli egged on as he wrapped his arms around Fíli’s neck and the two began to scuffle.

“Oi! I’ll kick both your arses into next week if you don’t knock it off,” Dwalin barked as he took both of them by the back of the necks and easily lifted them into the air.

“No fair!” Kíli cried out, but they both laughed and then began to wrestle with Dawlin. It was a ridiculous spectacle, of course, since Dawlin still held them by the scruff of their necks, and the most they could do was grab hold of a massive arm. Thorin shook his head with a soft fondness. It was good to be home.

“Your Majesty,” Balin said as he came over and bowed slightly.

“Balin, how have things been fairing?”

“Well. Dis wanted to be here to meet you, but the nobles’ meeting was prolonged. She said she would fill you in over lunch.”

“Good. She has more of a head for that sort of thing anyways.” 

Balin’s eyes flicked towards mister Baggins. “So, that is the Hobbit?” 

Thorin looked over and watched as the Halfling took in his surroundings, eyes wide and mouth agape. He looked like a scared little rabbit that was about to bolt at any second. “Yes, his name is Bilbo Baggins.”

“And he is carrying your child?”

“He confirmed it.”

Balin hummed. “And what are your orders concerning him?”

“For now, I will take him to my chambers, where I will deal with him. I want Óin to look him over. He has had morning sickness every day but seems to keep everything else down. He handled the roads fairly well besides that.”

“I will send for him. What will you do about the other nobles?” 

Thorin ran a hand over his face and shook his head. “I’m still trying to figure out what to do.” He glanced at Balin. “You disapprove.”

“Oh, not at all your majesty. But there must have been some sort of reason for his deceit, to begin with.”

“Perhaps,” Thorin growled. “But I’m not ready to deal with that just yet. Pick out the most trusted staff, ones that will gossip the least, to tend to him.” Thorin glanced back over at the Halfling, who looked in his direction and quickly away again. Even from this distance, he could tell the small thing was shaking. He marched over towards him and waited until Bilbo looked up at him, fear in his eyes. “Follow me,” Thorin ordered. He turned and headed towards home, not waiting to see if he was followed but with little doubt that he was.

XXXXXXXX

The place was enormous, with so many dwarves lining the streets and pathways. If Bilbo had felt small before, he felt insignificant here. The Dwarves were still taller than him, but at least they didn’t tower over him like the Men did; there were just so many of them.

Bilbo had to move quickly to catch up with Thorin or lose him in the crowd. A quick glance over his shoulder showed him that several of his guards followed behind, so if he had lost his way, they would most likely make sure he found it again. Thorin’s step was quick and sure, as he no doubt knew where he was going. The throng of dwarves parted easily for him, many bowing their heads at him, some from the waist, others a deep nod, and many of the female dwarves curtsied, some giggling after he had passed. Bilbo frowned and grew more nervous at this. He had to be a very high Lord indeed to be so recognized and respected.

Up ahead of them stood a magnificent structure that was carved within the Mountain, like it was the centerpiece that held up the inside. Bilbo could only gape at it, his head tipped back as he tried to encompass the entirety of the thing. He’d thought the inside of the Mountain was the city, with all the homes and shops carved into the stone walls. But here, near the heart of it all, was a castle so large that it surpassed even Bilbo’s imagination. He barely had time to take any of it in before he was ushered inside.

And the inside was just as spectacular as out. The floors gleamed like glass, columns stretched upwards so far that he couldn’t see the ends, and gold-and-jewel-encrusted paintings lined the hallways. Several figures fell into step with them, where Thorin would speak several words in their dwarven language, before moving off again.

They walked up several floors and down even more long hallways before they entered a more secluded area. Here, guards were posted outside large double doors. Doors so large, they would accommodate trolls. As they neared, the doors were quickly opened to allow Thorin and himself to pass through. This opened up into a huge antechamber and seemed to be another palace all on its own. A large fireplace was lit and burning brightly, filling the room with warmth. It was surrounded by several pieces of furniture. Tables lined the walls, and other doors and rooms were dotted along the sides.

Thorin headed towards another set of double doors that appeared to be made of pure gold and looked heavy enough that Bilbo wondered if he would be able to even open them by himself. Thorin seemed to have no trouble as he pushed them opened. He entered and waited inside the door as Bilbo followed. The door shut easily and quietly, but the click of the mechanism echoed loudly throughout the room as if it knew Bilbo was walking to his doom.

Thorin led him towards another open doorway. Bilbo’s heart thudded harder and harder as he noticed some of the paintings that lined the walls. Faces of dwarves with golden crowns that sat upon stone thrones glared down at him from this main room. A feeling of dread pressed down on him and as he entered the next room and his worst fear was acknowledged.

It wasn’t the large bed in the room that caught his attention, nor the high ceiling or gold veined walls, nor even the large wardrobe or wall of exotic weapons on display. The thing that caught his attention was the crown that sat upon a velvet stand among other jewels, rings, and pendants. It looked ridiculous heavy and was styled in the geometric patterns the dwarves seemed to favor.

His knees went weak and Bilbo sank to the floor, his eyes transfixed like he almost couldn’t believe or understand what he was seeing. Lips trembling, he forced his gaze away and looked up to Thorin, who had turned around and was frowning down at him. Then those blue eyes flicked towards his crown, understanding filling them as he looked back at Bilbo with a scowl. Bilbo felt like his world was spinning out of control and he fell forward, prostrating himself before this Dwarf King.

“I-I didn’t know, I s-swear by Yavanna I d-didn’t know!” he wailed. Tears easily fell from his eyes, which he squeezed shut, trying to get his breathing under control. Bilbo was becoming light-headed, and for a brief moment, he wondered if he was going to pass out. Every scenario flashed through his mind from all the stories he had heard growing up. Dungeons and public humiliations, servitude; everything from the worst to most possible infliction he could imagine; and he deserved every last one of them for what he had done. Curse Lobelia and Otho! But Bilbo had gone along with their plan, so he was just as guilty as they were. He whimpered slightly when a pair of boots stopped just in front of him.

“Get up, Halfling.”

Bilbo slowly pushed himself up, but only had the strength to sit on his knees. He kept his head down as the tears slid down his face, his hands fisted in his pants. The King reached down, took hold of his arms and easily stood him upright. Bilbo flinched, not knowing what to expect. The hands moved away and, when Bilbo swayed dangerously back towards the floor again, they reached back out to steady him, pulling him slightly towards that broad chest. Bilbo flailed as his hands came up and rested on the King’s arms to help steady himself. A hand was placed under his chin and gently nudged him to look upwards. Fingers wiped away his tears and then he was led over to a chair to sit.

“It was a long journey, and you must be tired,” Thorin said as he went over to his wardrobe and began to remove his dirty traveling clothes. Bilbo kept his eyes averted. “I will be sending a healer in to check on you, and some supper soon after that. Through the door over there is a washroom, where you may bathe and freshen up. I will be back later tonight. You’re free to roam these rooms but there will be guards posted out front to prevent you from leaving. Understood?”

Bilbo blinked up at him, his mouth opening but no sound came out so he only nodded. 

The King turned and headed towards the washroom. Bilbo could only sit there in stunned silence, the severity of the situation still not sinking in. When the King returned, he looked cleaner and had changed into some finer clothing; even his dark hair seemed to gleam in the light and held some additional braids and beads within it. He walked over towards his crown, picked it up, and placed it on his head. The king spared Bilbo a quick glance before he was out the door and he found himself blessedly alone.

He sat there, wondering just what in Arda had happened. It all felt so surreal. After several minutes, when his heart rate had returned to normal and he was sure his legs worked properly again, Bilbo slowly got up and headed towards the washroom.

There in the floor was a large pool, steam slowly rising off of it, and Bilbo could see a set of stairs that lead down into it. Mirrors graced one wall, with large wash basins and pitchers and vials and jars of different colors and hues on a counter there. There was a place to sit near the mirrors where beads and jewels sat, along with combs and brushes. He headed over towards the pool and dipped a toe in; the warmth was soothing and pleasant and not at all as hot as he thought it would be.

Quickly stripping his clothes off, Bilbo took the steps down into the pool and sank down onto a bench that lined the inside lip. The water rose nearly to his neck and he groaned with the indulgence. It had been too long since he had bathed, and the water felt too good. He spotted containers nearby and went and sniffed them, finding one that appealed to him. Bilbo quickly dunked himself under the water to get his hair wet and began to wash the dirt and grime from himself.

As the suds washed off into the water, Bilbo watched as they slowly moved towards the back of the pool, where they seemed to disappear into the wall. He shook his head at the water circulation - it was amazing, as he had never seen or heard of anything of its like it before.

Feeling clean once more and getting a little pruney, Bilbo reached for a fluffy towel and got out. The towel was so large that it easily wrapped around him a few times and reached all the way down to his feet. He looked at his dirty clothes and sighed. What was he going to wear? He didn’t want to put those dirty things back on, but he didn’t know what else to do. Nibbling on his lip a moment, Bilbo decided to see what he could find in the large wardrobe.

Everything here was exceedingly fine, the material and the stitching both of exquisite quality; Bilbo reverently ran his hands over several of the garments, admiring the craftsmanship. Some had jewels and gold thread sewn right into it. Bilbo had never seen the likes of it before. He continued to look and, towards the back, he found something that seemed more suitable for him to use. It was a plain blue shirt and, digging a little further, he found some black pants. The pants he had to roll up several times so he wouldn’t trip over them, and the shirt nearly hung to his knees. He found a piece of braided rope to tie around the middle to keep him from tripping over it. Even then it slipped slightly over one of his shoulders and he had to keep pulling it back into place.

“Ah, there you are,” a voice said from behind him.

Bilbo gave a small yelp and spun around. There stood a dwarf with a head full of bushy grey hair and beard. He had a mustache that was braided into part of his beard which split and twisted upwards. 

“I am Óin , the royal physician.”

“Oh, h-hello. I’m Bilbo Baggins.” He bowed. “At your service.”

Óin chuckled. “Oh, none of that now. It is I who is at yours. Come now, let’s take a look at you shall we?”

What followed was Óin looking him over, asking about how he was feeling, if he was getting enough sleep and nourishment, what he could keep down and what he couldn’t. He had Bilbo lay down on the bed, where he gently prodded at his stomach and asked him if he felt any pain or discomfort. 

Bilbo shook his head no and informed him of his morning sickness.

“You seem to be in fine health, Master Baggins.”

“Please, just call me Bilbo.”

Óin inclined his head. “There isn’t too much to be done about the morning sickness, other than waiting for it to pass. I’ll have the kitchens send up an herbal tea recipe that should help, and stick to just some dry toast and bland foods in the morning until it passes. I will be by once a week to check on your progress. We haven’t had an omega male for hundreds of years here in Erebor, so I will have to do some research on the subject. Rest assured, you are in good hands.”

Bilbo walked out with him into the other room, where another dwarf was setting out plates of food on the table. The smells were distracting and his stomach rumbled quite loudly. The dwarf turned their head to look at him while continuing to set the plates out. When they smiled Bilbo could see that it was a female dwarf; her beard was braided back from her face and hung below her ears, her lips were full and he could see she had a dimple in one cheek when she smiled.

“Hello, I’m Rumra. You must be starving!”

“I-I am a little.” He grinned sheepishly at her.

“Well, come and eat. If you need anything, just pull on the cord here.” She showed him a thick yellow cord that was hanging from the wall. “And I will come assist you.”

“Oh, that isn’t n-necessary,” he told her, starting to feel a bit overwhelmed.

“Not at all, it’s my job to see to your needs.” She gave him a small bow and left the room, with Bilbo looking after her a bit bewildered.   
The delicious smells coming from the table soon retook his attention, and he walked over to find a small feast. Bilbo hadn’t seen so much food in one place before, not even back with Lord Efren’s men. This spread would feed his whole clan well for an entire day. Bilbo reached over and snagged a few cuts of cold meat and cheese from one plate, and thick slices of bread from another. There was a large tureen of soup, meat pies, game birds, sausages, and scones with freshly made butter, and bowls that held cream and jams on the side. He also found a container of tea with hot water along the side with a pitcher of milk. There were also sweets, cookies, and small cakes that had his mouth watering.

Soon, his tummy was full and it looked like he hardly made a dent in the food. It felt like it was a waste just to leave the food sitting there. But the toll of the day was starting to weigh on him, and he suddenly felt exhausted. Bilbo made his way to a couch near the fireplace and found a soft blanket which he curled up in. If he had any decent thought left in his head, Bilbo would have been surprised at how fast he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always hate these, so this can be ignored if you so choose haha. Sorry for such a delay in publishing. As I have stated before this is a complete work and I just need to go over the chapters and clean them up a bit. I moved, got a new full time job (which is a graveyard shift) and have been suffering from crippling depression. Which I am sure many of you can understand. I am finally feeling better, getting used to my new work schedule and have been working on a new story as I clean this one up (which I am excited to share, but you will have to wait until it is finished ^_^)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where they finally talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all so wonderful, I love you all! Thank you darkdagers for the read-over. This is my longest chapter as they finally end up talking.
> 
> **beta update by Megara09**

Thorin rolled his shoulders and stretched out his neck as he walked back to his rooms. It had been a long day of catching up. First, he’d had lunch with Dis as she filled him in on the guilds, what conflicts had arisen with whom and who he should meet with first. And then there was Balin and all the spending reports, ranging from his traveling, the army, cattle, and food, to the kitchens and castle servants. Then it was to meet with Glóin about resources dealing with the mines and which tunnels were profiting and which were starting to dry up, and what needed to be done with the gold and gems extracted and the payment to the miners.

Dinner was a quick affair as he met with some of the nobles and looked over treaties that needed to be renewed with Dale and future ones coming up with the Greenwood Elves. It was enough to give him a slight headache, just thinking about dealing with Thranduil again.

Finally, he could retire, and as he neared his chambers he began to perk up a bit, remembering who waited for him there. There was a brief moment after lunch when he had spoken with Óin, who had guaranteed him that the Halfling was perfectly healthy and normal as far as he could tell. There were a few concerns, but Óin would do some research into it as the pregnancy progressed.

It was enough for Thorin.

When he walked into his rooms, the lights were low but the fire burned bright. The Halfling looked up at him, a large book propped open in his lap. Thorin raised an eyebrow at him and the small creature leaped up and gave a deep bow.

“Your M-Majesty,” he stammered as he kept his eyes downcast, his hands worrying themselves in front of him. Thorin felt a wave of lust shoot through him, his cock quickly filling as he took in the Hobbit’s appearance. His hair shone golden in the firelight, and he could see that he had made use of Thorin’s wardrobe, wearing one of his simple traveling shirts and a pair of sleep pants. The shirt was practically hanging off of one shoulder, something that he tried to straighten it out by tugging on the front of it.

Taking a few quick steps towards him, Thorin raised a hand and tipped the Hobbit’s chin back up to look at him. His eyes looked brown in this light, and they widened slightly at his touch, his bottom lip trembling.

“You may call me Thorin,” he told him and noted how husky his voice sounded.

“Th-Thorin,” the Halfling whispered, his eyes dilated with his own desires. 

Thorin had to close his eyes briefly and inhaled sharply through his nose. That had more of an impact than he cared to admit, and it seemed he wasn’t the only one affected by the other’s presence. When he opened his eyes again, the Halfling was still staring at him wide-eyed. Thorin felt a smile tug at his lips as he leaned down and kissed him.

It was gentle and soft, and when the Halfling gasped, he immediately swept his tongue inside, getting to finally, finally, taste that mouth. Thorin swiped his tongue against the Hobbit’s, along his gums and teeth a few times before pulling back. The Halfling’s eyes were closed and his cheeks were flushed.

He took hold of the Halfling’s arm and led him back into the bedroom. “Get undressed and onto the bed,” he ordered, turning back towards a table where he looked for a piece of silken rope. When he turned back, he could see the Hobbit looking nervously at the bed and then back towards Thorin, fear having replaced the arousal there.

Kicking off his boots, Thorin removed his own shirt and let it fall to the floor as he walked towards him. Those eyes locked onto his exposed chest and Thorin couldn’t help but preen under the stare. He came to a stop just in front of him and waited until those eyes looked up at him before bending down and gently brushing his lips across his again, bringing a hand up to cup the back of the Halfling’s head, letting his hand slide into those golden curls. It wasn’t long before the Hobbit began to respond, his own lips moving in response, his tongue shyly brushing against Thorins.

Wrapping his free hand around his waist, Thorin pulled the smaller being in towards him, a soft moan escaping from the Hobbit as his hands came up to Thorin’s chest. He responded with a soft, pleased growl and slid his lips from Halfling’s mouth to trail down his neck. Thorin was distracting him as he reached down and quickly undid the tie and lifted the shirt from off the Hobbit, while he continued to pepper him with kisses. Bending down, he gathered the Halfling into his arms and climbed onto the bed.

The small creature squeaked and his arms tightened momentarily around Thorin’s neck in surprise, and he couldn’t help the small chuckle that left him. Laying him down, Thorin quickly took the silken rope and began to tie the Halfling’s arms above him to the headboard. After all, turnabout was fair play. Thorin looked down on his prize, the soft pink smooth skin, so different than a Dwarf’s, practically hairless. He ran his hand down the expanse, loving the feel of it, the softness, and the slight pudge of it. Thorin leaned down and planted kisses along the expanse, followed by small tastes from his tongue and nips from his teeth.

Small moans and whimpers escaped the smaller creature as he squirmed under Thorin’s attention, especially when his beard scraped across a sensitive spot. Thorin quickly took off the rest of his clothes and slid the pants off the Hobbit. It was satisfying to see that he was aroused, his cock full and pink, and he didn’t hesitate to taste it.

“Oh, oh my…,” the Halfling gasped as he bucked up into his mouth. 

Thorin had to hold his hips down as he sucked gently and tasted the sweet flavor that burst on his tongue. It was when Thorin reached a hand down to feel between the Hobbit’s cheeks that he pulled away. His fingers encountered slickness that came from the Hobbit’s hole. Balin had been right about that part. The omega male was self-lubricating, and that would make things smoother, as Thorin wouldn’t have to worry about having to find slick for their coupling. He eased a finger in but had no worries as it slid right in. The Hobbit gasped, and Thorin groaned as tight heat encompassed his digit. As if whimpering for more, the Hobbit spread his legs wider, giving more room for Thorin.

He had to take a deep calming breath before continuing, the smell alone driving him crazy. All he wanted to do was thrust in and rut into the Halfling's willing body. Instead, Thorin inserted two fingers this time and watched, fascinated, as he twisted and stretched them, moving them in and out of the Hobbit’s body. The Halfling squirmed and his breathing had become labored; small pleas were escaping his mouth. He inserted three fingers just to be sure before pulling them out and Thorin glanced at them and the clear coating that covered them. On instinct, he popped them into his mouth and groaned. Mahal, but the flavor and the taste was almost enough to make him come right there. One of these days he was going to feast on the Hobbit, but not this night.

Taking hold of the Halfling behind his knees, he spread him wide open, lining up his full hard cock up against his quivering hole. “Look at me,” he ordered. He waited for those eyes to flutter open and look at him, dark with lust and desire. The Hobbit wanted this just as much as he did. Reassured, Thorin pressed in until he bottomed out. The Hobbit moaned and tipped his head back, exposing his throat to Thorin, who took the offering.

He suckled on the sweat, leaving his mark as he pulled out and thrust back in. A deep groan escaped him as he repeated the motion over and over. The Halfling was just as wanton, his own mews and moans filling the air; he cried out when Thorin’s mouth latched onto a nipple and he bit down a bit more harshly than he intended, but there were no complaints. Something primal and deep had awakened in him. A long-forgotten beast that growled with the pleasure of it all.

“You are mine,” Thorin snarled as he thrust deep and sharp, adjusting a few times until the Hobbit cried out with pleasure, quivering beneath him, his body accepting what Thorin gave him.

“Yes, oh yes!” the Halfling cried out, his back arching as he came, shooting stripes across his stomach and some even landing on his chest and chin. Thorin stilled momentarily, holding off his own pleasure as he watched, felt the Halfling tighten around him, and just when he couldn’t hold back, anymore slammed into the now-pliant body beneath him until he bellowed his own release, pressing in as far as he could as wave after wave of pleasure washed over him.

Thorin pressed his forehead against the Halfling’s as they both tried to get their breathing under control, hearts racing, and skin flushed. Pulling out carefully, Thorin got up and retrieved a wet cloth and cleaned them both off. Then he untied the Hobbit from his bindings, pulled his arms down, and inspected his wrists to make sure they weren’t injured. There was some reddening but nothing that would bruise, and so he slid into bed and pulled the smaller creature up against him. Thorin nuzzled the damp curls with his nose and inhaled deeply. The smell permeated his very being, giving him a satisfaction he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

XXXXXX

When Bilbo woke the next morning, he bolted upright as the previous night’s memories rushed back to him. Glancing next to him showed that he was alone in the bed. He felt his cheeks flush from how wanton he had acted and he flopped back down, an arm going over his eyes to hide his embarrassment, even though he was the only one in the room.

“What have you gotten yourself into now Bilbo Baggins?” he muttered to himself, but it still didn’t stop the arousal flowing through him from the memories. He blamed it on his hormones, and to be honest, Thorin was the only one he had, well…done anything like this with. But the possessive growl when Thorin had told him that he was his? Bilbo was helpless to argue the fact. In that moment, it had felt right, like something deep down agreed and accepted it. And reflecting upon it now, it still felt right. Bilbo knew that he belonged to Thorin, no matter what was to come.

Sliding out of bed, Bilbo headed for the washroom where he cleaned up and got dressed. When he headed back out into the main room, the table was once again laden with breakfast foods, and his stomach rumbled hungrily. He dished up some eggs and sausage, along with bacon, some bread and cheese, and some scones with more cream and jam than he would usually have. When he had finished eating, he went back over to the couch and picked up the book he had found previously and continued from where he had left off the night before. There was a small library on the other side of the room that also held a large desk. An office of some sort. Most of the books were in the Dwarven language but there had been a few that were in Westron.

It was about ten minutes later when he realized that this was the first morning he hadn’t thrown up. He patted his stomach appreciatively and, with a smile, went back to reading. 

Later, when Rumra came with lunch, he asked her for some yarn and needles. Back in the office, he found some parchment, along with ink. He was pretty sure he could remember his aunt’s knitting pattern and began to write it down so that by the time Rumra came back with his supplies, he was able to get started.

There still was no sign of Thorin - and Bilbo supposed he could think of him by his given name since the Dwarf had asked him to. And here in these rooms, Bilbo could pretend that it was just the two of them, that no one else mattered or existed.

Time passed quickly as he worked, taking short breaks as he looked over the patterns and made adjustments. He talked with Rumra when she came to bring lunch and dinner and even spent some time reading and napping. 

It grew late, and there was still no sign of the King. Bilbo padded off towards the washroom, took a bath, and then climbed into bed. It made him feel guilty as he snuggled into the warm softness. He wondered what his people must be going through right now because of him. The long hard nights on the road and, with the weather changing soon, it would start to get cold out there. Still, he fell asleep faster than he thought he would.

When he woke later, he felt good, hot, and a deep rumble of appreciation sounded behind him, vibrating against his back. Bilbo arched back into the hands that had wrapped around him as a familiar beard brushed against his neck, teeth nipping his sensitive skin. Bilbo moaned and tilted his head to the side, offering more. A large hand slid downwards and cupped his hard erection and he gasped. There was a large bulge pressing from behind him against his arse which Bilbo arched back into. He could feel the wetness between his cheeks as his body responded to his mate.

Bilbo spun around so that he was facing Thorin and greedily pressed his lips to the dwarfs. It felt so much better like this, where he could use his hands to run through thick, silken hair, feel the braids that were there as they brushed against his hands. Thorin groaned and kissed back, and Bilbo quickly parted his mouth for his tongue to enter.

It wasn’t long before clothes were gone and Thorin was pressed deep inside and leaning over him. Bilbo wrapped his legs around the thick waist as he rocked into him. It was all taste, touch, and moans, accented with high-pitched whines and heavy breathing. It was dark to Bilbo, the candlelight long gone, and just the soft glow from the fireplace illuminating the room. When Thorin’s hand wrapped itself around his cock, it only took a few strokes before Bilbo was finding release, his body quaking and shivering with pleasure as Thorin found his own.

Thorin collapsed onto his side, pulling Bilbo along with him as they breathed each other’s air, taking in the scent of heavy musk. They shared a few slow kisses as Thorin’s hands slowly ran over his back in long soft strokes. Bilbo yawned and pressed his face against Thorin’s furred chest and fell back to sleep.

The days seemed to continue in this manner. Some mornings he had sickness, some he did not, but Bilbo could tell that each morning was getting better. And yet, even with all this wealth, food and opulence, Bilbo felt his spirits lowering. Óin would check in on him at least once a week. Everything seemed to be progressing well. The blanket he had been working on was just about completed, and he had created a few more designs for a few others, along with some clothes.

Still, there were things…small things that shouldn’t bother him but did. Bilbo would never say so; he had no right to, after all.

Bilbo missed the sun, the fresh air, trees, and flowers. He missed seeing the stars, his family. A wave of homesickness rushed over him, and he wished he could see his mother and father again. Even the King, as nice as the nights were, still only treated Bilbo like a prisoner. A bird kept in a gilded cage. And it was well within his rights to do so.

Bilbo also noticed that Thorin never called him by his name.

He tried not to let any of this bother him because this was what he deserved for what he did. Then his thoughts went to his family and hoped they were safe. They were the ones in the most danger after the dwarves attacked Lord Efren’s people. He could only hope they got out of there in time and were looking for someplace safe for the winter.

That thought was depressing. All of what he did was for nothing. Bilbo deflated at that. What was the reasoning for holding Bilbo here, then? Was it just for the child he carried? Did it not matter that Bilbo wouldn't survive? Not that Bilbo blamed Thorin for using him as he did, not after what Bilbo had forced upon him several months ago. No, this was his punishment, a comfortable one, but a punishment nonetheless. He lived in a King’s room while his family perished.

Every day, he wanted to tell Thorin the truth, to apologize, but he chickened out every time, or was distracted by the heated touches and kisses and lost himself in Thorin’s embrace. It was easy to do. Bilbo tried to content himself with his surroundings. He never had to worry about his next meal, or clothes and shelter, and his child, Thorin’s child, would be well cared for.

When the blanket was completed, Bilbo started on some hats and booties, hoping that Thorin would at least allow the child to keep them in memory of him. His morning sickness was all but gone now, and he could see his midsection was beginning to get bigger. Bilbo would smile sadly as he rubbed gently at it.

“I wish I could tell you about our people, little one. About my mother, Belladonna Took, who was arranged to marry Bungo Baggins, and they ended up madly in love with each other. But it wasn’t easy at first.” Bilbo chuckled to himself, his eyes tearing up from thinking about them. It gave him an idea, though, and he quickly went over to the small office of Thorin’s and pulled out several pieces of parchment. There he sat down and began to write.

XXXXXX

Thorin came in later than usual one night to find the bed empty. Frowning, he went back out into the sitting room, which was also empty. There was only one other room and, pushing the door open, he could see several candles lit and sitting on his desk. There was his Hobbit, slumped over, soft snores escaping him. He couldn’t stop the small smile that formed. He looked so cute, his curls dark and honey gold in the dim light, a little bit of ink on his cheek.

He walked over and could see that the Halfling had been writing. Quite a bit, by the look of the small pile there. Thorin gently picked him up and adjusted him within his arms and took him back to their bed. It had been a tiring day, and Thorin decided that they both needed some sleep tonight. He gently slipped the Halfling’s clothes off and settled him in the bed as he undressed himself. Sliding under the covers, he pulled the smaller body next to his and sighed.

It felt so good to sleep with someone on a regular basis. Not just the sex, which was fantastic, but just knowing that after a long day, there was a soft, warm, and willing body waiting for him. It was so domestic, so normal and fresh a change for the life of a King.

The next morning, Thorin was woken by the Hobbit scrambling out of the bed and the sounds of his retching. He frowned and quietly followed, grabbing a bathrobe to wrap around himself. The Halfling heaved a few more times, his shoulders shaking.

“Are you unwell?” Thorin asked. 

The Halfling squeaked and spun, but relaxed when he saw who it was. “Oh, n-no your Majesty. I’m sorry if I woke you. You’re usually gone by the time I get up.” He stood and went to wash out his mouth and splash some water on his face.

“I thought Óin said your morning illness had passed?”

“It has, mostly. Just had a…a bad dream is all.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

The Halfling bowed his head and shook in the negative, but he looked so pale that Thorin decided to summon Óin later just in case.   
They both got dressed and went out to the main room, where Rumra was putting breakfast on the table. It was the first morning he was able to relax a bit and enjoy. The Hobbit still seemed a bit shaken and when Thorin pushed it, he seemed to get quieter and less responsive so he let it go. “I see that you were writing.”

“Oh,” the Hobbit blinked at him and a small blush spread across his cheeks, “is that alright? I should have asked first, but the idea had come to me and I just acted on it so –“

“No, it’s fine, really. You can do as you wish in these rooms,?” Thorin said to assure him. “I was just curious as to what it was you were writing.”

“You didn’t read it?”

“Well, why would I? It belongs to you.”

“Oh, well, because you are the King and everything here belongs to you, so I just thought you would have –“

“I would not pry into your personal business. Are you writing to someone?”

He gave a small sad smile. “I suppose you could say that.”

“Ah, just let Rumra know and she can have it taken to a raven to be delivered.”

The Halfling bit his lip a moment. “It’s…for the baby, so they will know,” he said quietly. “If you’ll allow it, that is. I also have made a blanket and some booties, a hat…” The Halfling stood and went over to a basket where he kept his yarn and needles and laid them out for Thorin to see. 

Thorin reached out and gently felt the items, appreciated the work that went into them and looked at the tiny socks he had made.

“You made these?” 

The Halfling nodded. “Yes, I was hoping you would give them to the child, along with some letters, about my family, and a…about me. If you allowed it.” 

Thorin frowned at this. “Why would I not allow it? Why would you not tell them yourself?” 

At this, the Halfling looked up at him, eyes wide, mouth opening and closing several times with nothing coming out. “I-I do not expect to survive the birthing process. I th-thought you knew this?”

“What!” Thorin exclaimed as he stood. Something like white hot fear lanced down his spine and he took a step towards the Halfling who flinched and took a step back.

“Omega m-males rarely s-survive the birthing p-process,” he said quickly, voice full of fear, and Thorin hated that he was the one who put it there. 

He had to close his eyes a moment and get his breathing under control. Then he marched over to the door and yelled for someone to have Óin come immediately.

Thorin paced back and forth while the Halfling sat on a chair arms wrapped around himself. He stopped and turned to him. “Explain this to me? Why….” Thorin clenched his teeth took a deep breath and continued. “Why did you…with me if it would only…?”

The Halfling shook his head and looked down, his eyes closed. When he looked back up at Thorin, there was raw pain there, and such misery, his eyes filled with tears that spilled freely down his cheeks. “I am so so sorry about that night,” he whispered, standing up and walking to Thorin only to fall to his knees before him and take one of his hands in both of his. “I would never have…” He shook his head. “It matters not now, and I can offer no excuse, but I can give you my heartfelt sorrow at the deed. I have accepted whatever form of punishment you desire from me, along with the birth of your child, because that is all I can give you for what I have done.”

The doors opened then as Óin entered, his steps faltering as he saw them. Thorin yanked his hand away from the Halfling. His mind was in a jumble. Did the Hobbit truly think of this as a punishment?

“The Hobbit says he is going to die during birth,” Thorin spat out, using his native tongue, and he began pacing back and forth.   
The Halfling had not moved from his spot on the floor.

Óin’s eyes flicked towards him but then back to Thorin’s. “I am not as familiar with Hobbits and their Omegas, and it can be a difficult birth, but there should be no reason as to why he would not survive it.”

That gave him a small bit of peace, but Thorin was still very troubled. “How sure are you of this?”

“I have consulted all my books regarding Omegas, Your Majesty, and there was nothing there to indicate that he wouldn’t survive.” Óin placed his hands behind his back.

“Have there been cases of Omegas perishing?”

“Of course. Child birthing can be hard and unpredictable, even for a woman. We can take all sorts of precautions and still lose one or the other. It’s just the way of things.”

“And for Omegas?” Thorin demanded.

Óin sighed. “It can be more demanding and difficult for Omegas, this is true. But I see no reason that Bilbo would expect not to survive. He has never conveyed that sentiment to me during his checkups.”

Perhaps because he knew from the beginning and just assumed everyone else expected the same, Thorin thought.

“Are you unwell, Bilbo?” Óin asked in Westron as he stepped towards him. “Has your sickness returned?”

“No, no, I’m fine, thank you,” he said quietly, still on his knees on the floor.

“Leave us, Óin.”

“Your Majesty?”

“I said leave us.” 

Óin nodded his head and left, shutting the door behind him. 

The near silence of the room was deafening and Thorin went and sat down, putting his head into his hands.

“My family was starving,” the Hobbit started quietly. “We lost our home so long ago and have been wandering ever since, searching for land to call our own. Everywhere we went, there was nothing but strife and wastelands and cruel owners who took our crops, leaving us with barely anything to survive on. Lord Efren agreed to a contract - in exchange for a child, he would grant us lands and seeds, a place to call home. Before he and I could…could…he died.”

Thorin looked up when the Hobbit was silent for a while. Bilbo’s shoulders shook, his breathing hitching in near-silent sobs as his hands fisted in his robe.

“I have failed. Failed my mother and f-father, my family, my c-clan. They have lost e-everything because of m-me.” His arms wrapped around himself, and he seemed to shrink in even smaller as he began to rock back and forth.

Standing, Thorin went over to him and flinched a bit as Bilbo blanched at his touch. His eyes were full of tears and fear, and he shook his head. “I’m so so sorry.”

Thorin picked him up and walked over towards the couch, where he made adjustments so that Bilbo was pressed against him. He could feel the tremors that ran through his small frame. He crooned softly, like Bilbo was a little spooked animal that needed to be soothed, and gently ran his hands up and down his arms and back. He continued this until the tremors stopped and Bilbo had relaxed into his arms.

“I want you to answer a question, and I want you to be honest with me.” Thorin waited until he had the Hobbit’s attention before continuing. “If you had met me before agreeing to a contract with that Lord,” he sneered at the name, “would you have offered me this contract had I been willing?”

The Halfling looked down a moment, and he could see him worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. A pink flush spread across his cheeks and down his neck. But he nodded and looked back up at him shyly. “Yes.”

“And what were the terms of this contract?”

“Land for my people to live and garden, a more permanent place to call home. A percentage of the crops would go to you, of course, for tithe. My people are not warriors, so protection would be needed in times of crisis. And in exchange, I would give you an heir, as healthy and whole as possible.” 

Thorin hummed as he listened. His hand slid around to Bilbo’s belly, which he could tell was getting a little bigger. “And why do you think you will not survive this birthing, my Hobbit?”

“It was never in the contract, and Lord Efren was explicit that he wanted no other contact with my clan or family. He had no healer that was knowledgeable with Omega males, and everyone there seemed to only care for the child I would bear. My chances did not look good.”

“Thank Mahal for his demise then,” Thorin muttered. “It’s good that you are under my rule here, and Óin has assured me that, while it may be difficult, you should be expected to live.”

“Truly?” Bilbo asked as he looked at him, hope and warmth flooding his eyes. 

Thorin smiled at him softly. “Truly, so you may give our child the gifts yourself.”

“Oh, oh you…” Bilbo lunged forward, his arms wrapping around his neck, hugging him tightly as a weak laugh escaped him.   
Thorin’s own arms wrapped around him, and he buried his face into those honey gold curls he was beginning to love. “You wonderful Dwarf. Does this mean that I would be able to see them as well?”

“What?” Thorin asked a bit confused, pulling back.

“Oh, well, there was a stipulation that after the birth and if I survived, I would return to my clan with no further contact with the child or Lord Efren.”

“Bilbo, according to Dwarven laws, we are already considered married.” The Hobbit stilled in his arms.

“My name.” Thorin frowned as Bilbo pulled back and looked up with a smile on his face. “You said my name.”

Thorin couldn’t stop from smiling back and whispering huskily, “Bilbo.” The Hobbit closed his eyes and smiled. Then the smile left his face and his eyes opened in horror.

“Wait…married!?” He leapt off of Thorin’s lap. “We can’t be married! How can we be married?” Fear filled his face as he backed up shaking his head back and forth. “No, no, no, no. You’re a King, and I am just a, a Hobbit. No, no this isn’t right. You are under no obligation to me, Your Majesty. I never meant, never even dreamed…” He could see his breathing was getting too quick, too fast. “Oh dear.”   
Thorin lunged forward and caught Bilbo before he hit the floor.

What a mess this was. Balin was right; he should have spoken to Bilbo long before now instead of trying to keep him safe and hidden within these rooms while he worked out contracts and agreements, as he made adjustments and addendums to some of the laws. He also knew that he still held resentment from that night, but he had no idea how much Bilbo had been suffering as well. 

It was time for things to change.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo begins to learn about being a Dwarrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **beta update by Megara09**

When Bilbo woke, he felt drained and exhausted. He could feel how puffy and grainy his eyes felt as he scrunched his eyebrows down, trying to focus as he looked at the ceiling. He was laying on the bed, a small blanket thrown over him, and then the memories came flooding back and he bolted upright with a gasp.

What in the name of Yavanna? Married? To a King? No, that wasn’t even possible. He needed to make Thorin see how silly that was. Bilbo was not worthy of such status. Sliding his legs off the bed, he headed towards the slightly open door where he could hear the soft murmur of voices.

There was Thorin, speaking with a white-bearded dwarf. He looked somewhat familiar, and Bilbo thought he recognized him from when they had first arrived at the Mountain. There was also another dwarf standing by the door who seemed to have an ax embedded in his forehead. Bilbo paused in walking as his attention was caught by that strange sight. The dwarf noticed him staring and gave him a wink and wiggled his fingers at him, which made Bilbo’s face heat up and quickly turn his attention back to Thorin.

“Thorin,” Bilbo said in a loud whisper. “Can I speak with you a moment?”

“Ah, Bilbo, how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” he said as he looked back and forth between the two dwarves. “But I must speak with you.”

“Good, I want to introduce you to Balin, son of Fundin, one of my closest advisors and a dear friend.”

“Hello Master Baggins, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Balin said with a small bow.

“Please, just call me Bilbo.”

“Well, I leave you in good hands then. Until tonight,” Thorin said as he nodded his head at Bilbo and turned and left.

“Thorin, wait, we need talk.”

“Lad, I’m afraid when Thorin has something on his mind he gets very…determined until he sees it completed.”

“Oh,” Bilbo deflated. Guess he would have to wait until later.

“Now, if you’re ready, and feel up to it, we have several appointments to see to ourselves today.”

“We do?”

Balin chuckled softly. “Yes, we have the tailors to visit. Thorin said you needed clothes, and I imagine you will need a whole new wardrobe, plus extra ones for when you start showing more. Also the jewelers, and your lessons for Khuzdul. I’m not sure if you and Thorin have discussed the royal nursery or not, but we can stop by there as well and see if there is anything you want to add and change.”

“Wait a minute…” Bilbo felt his head was spinning. “I need to sit down.”

Balin took hold of his arm and lead him towards a chair where Bilbo gratefully sank into. So much was happening, he wasn’t sure where to start first. “You must have a million questions.”

“You could say that.” Bilbo looked up at Balin who had moved towards a table and returned with a cup of water which he took gratefully. Balin looked down on him with a kind smile and moved to sit down and wait until he was ready. He could detect no malice directed towards him or falsehood. “Thorin…His Majesty said that we are…married?” 

Balin nodded his head. “Yes, but it’s more complicated than that.” He sighed and shook his head. “This is one reason he took off so fast; he isn’t very good at explaining these sort of things.”

“H-how is this even possible? With him being a King, and me just a, just a lowly Hobbit,” Bilbo said quietly.  
Balin studied him a moment. “I don’t know very many Hobbits, but you, Bilbo, are no simple Hobbit. You are an Omega male, something that is very rare and uncommon these days. Let me see if I can explain a little bit about us Dwarves and our views on marriage.” Balin ran a hand over his beard as he seemed to think for a moment. “We dwarves do not just marry because we can.” Bilbo frowned at this, confused. “Menfolk marry and arrange marriages and the like as they have no pull within them towards a bonded one, only towards someone they feel an attraction with. They use this to help form unions and build stronger households with these arrangements. Does this make sense?”

“Hobbits are the same,” Bilbo said with a nod.

“With Elves, they have soul mates, sometimes more than one, and it is a song they hear within their hearts.” Bilbo listened attentively. He had heard tales, and stories, but thought that was all they were. “Dwarves are different as well. We only love but once and sometimes not at all. Only one-third of our race is female, so not all of us have are destined to have children, which is why we cherish them all the more.

“It is rare to find our One. It is what we call our other half, the one that Mahal created for us. And when we do find them, it matters not what their station is. We do not place restrictions on this bond, as it would be against nature for us Dwarves to do so.”

“But –” 

Balin held up his hand. “Thorin never felt the need to bond, or a pull to a bond, which is very common. Most dwarves lose themselves in their craft and it is enough for them in this lifetime. When Thorin became King, he was very dedicated to his people, and he was content with it. So, when his sister found her One and gave birth, he named his nephew his heir to rule after him.”

“And now he has an heir,” Bilbo said softly, feeling the blood drain from his face. He placed a hand protectively over his stomach as if he could protect the child there.

“Oh, don’t misunderstand me, Bilbo. You and Thorin having a child is a great thing and will be celebrated throughout the kingdom. Fili will still be heir, so you don’t need to worry about contention there.” Balin sighed. “The problem is that you are, well, a Hobbit, an outsider, and pregnant, with none of the courting rituals seen to. In order for you to be recognized legally as Thorin’s consort, certain laws and procedures needed to be followed and --”

“Oh, I see. But that’s what I was trying to tell Thorin. There is no obligation for him to be married to me.” Bilbo tried to smile. “See, so that should settle it.”

Balin reached over and patted his hand with a smile. “Laddie, if only it were that simple. Thorin will not let you go, not now. You carry more than his child Bilbo; you’ve given him a life he never thought was possible.”

“I’m not his One, though. What if he finds them and he is stuck with me?” Bilbo said quietly.

Balin reached a hand over and patted his knee. “Thorin seems to believe that he has no destined one and so we will have to trust in that. As I’ve said, he will not let you go, not now. Are you feeling better yet? We really do need to get going as we have much to do.”

Before Bilbo knew it, he was standing and being led towards the large golden doors; towards the dwarf that had an ax in his head. “This is Bifur, he is your personal guard. Whenever you leave the Royal wing, he will guide and assist you.”

“Hello,” Bilbo said. Bifur replied in some strange dwarf language and nodded.

“You’ll get used to the ax. He’s lost the ability to speak Westron, but we will teach you Iglishmek so you can communicate with him better.”  
For the first time since he got there, Bilbo left Thorin’s chambers. This time he wasn’t as scared. A bit nervous, yes, but felt no real fear.  
“Now, across the way is Lady Dis and her apartments. She is Thorin’s younger sister. The nursery is located over near her rooms, but we can easily move them onto this side if that’s more to your preference. I believe there are some free rooms that would suffice. Would you like to take a look at them now or later?”

“Later is fine,” Bilbo said, eyes wide as he took in everything. The antechamber was huge and would fit several of Lord Efren’s rooms in it alone. A large fireplace was on one side, and chairs and couches surrounded it. Portraits were strewn about the walls along with tapestries that brought a feeling of warmth to the room, even though as he looked closely at some of the scenes, they looked to tell tales of heroic battles. Bilbo would love the chance to get a better look at them. Off towards another side, there was a table so large that it could probably sit his entire family. There were also other doors which he only caught glimpses of as they passed. And even what appeared to be a balcony.

And then they were out of the Royal apartments and heading down a wide corridor that twisted and churned. Bilbo tried to keep track of where they were and the layout, but it was impossible. Already he was lost.

“The kitchens are down that way,” Balin pointed out as they passed a crossway, “and over there leads towards the library.”

“Library?” Bilbo perked up at that.

“You will be heading that way after lunch for your lessons,” Balin informed him. “And over that way is the great hall and the Throne room.”

They continued walking and came to another door, which also had some guards to each side. Bilbo noticed that many of the dwarves looked at him curiously. Then they were out of the castle and walking towards the city. The sheer size still amazed Bilbo as he tried to comprehend the size of the Mountain. Balin was greeted here and there by a passing dwarf, and he would respond in kind.

The further they walked into the city, the more crowded it became. The streets were full of dwarves of different shapes and sizes. Beards and hair were done up in elaborate braids, some wore tinkling bells, and others had gems of different hues and colors woven in.

Vendors called out their wares, from fruits and meats to cloth and shoes, even weapons and all different assortments of jewels and the like. Bilbo felt a presence at his back and glanced back to see Bifur, who had come closer, his eyes roaming the crowd around them.

There was so much to see, and Bilbo looked around with wide eyes. He could feel curious eyes on him, but no one stopped them as Balin moved purposefully through the crowds.

Soon enough they were walking through the front door of a shop, where a bell rang as they entered. The room was brightly lit. Along the walls were shelves holding bolts full of fabrics in a variety of shades and hues. Another section held tapestries, blankets, and premade clothing items. Another held accessories, threads, and other odds and ends that Bilbo wondered at.

“Welcome, welcome,” a friendly voice said. 

Bilbo turned to see a smiling Dwarf. His silver hair was pulled back tight against his skull in several braids and his beard, twisted into a fine braid below his chin, was intertwined with ribbons that matched his tunic.

“Master Dori,” Balin greeted with a small polite bow.

“Balin, right on time. Come, come have a seat.” The three were ushered towards a small nook which held a small kitchen with a few chairs and a small couch with a fireplace kept behind a golden gate that was shaped as a peacock. The tail fanned over the entire fireplace and had large jewels embedded into it. The colors seemed to twinkle and shine through the room as the flames danced behind them. The eyes looked to be deep green emeralds, and its tail held sapphires and rubies so large that one alone would have kept his family fed for an entire year. And he was positive it was made of gold. It was beautiful. They sat down as the Dwarf went over to the counter and looked to be preparing some tea.

“Bilbo, this is Dori, the finest Master tailor here in Erebor. Dori, May I present to you Bilbo Baggins, future consort to Thorin, son of Thrain, King under the Mountain.”

“Oh, now I wouldn’t be saying that,” Dori said a small blush on his cheeks. “Welcome Master Baggins, you honor my establishment.” He came back over towards them a silver tray in his hands which he sat down. “Would like a cup of chamomile tea?”

“Please.” Bilbo nodded and eyed the arrangement of biscuits and small cakes as well.

“Tis true, his family has been serving the line of Durin for many, many years.” Balin leaned over as he told this to Bilbo.

“Pleasure to meet you, Master Dori,” Bilbo said. 

Dori just tutted but looked pleased nonetheless. 

As Bilbo sipped his tea, he listened as the two dwarves discussed the current fashions and some new gossip that had started to make its rounds. Bilbo availed himself to the sweets as he listened.

“Well now, Master Baggins, let’s get some measurements shall we?” Dori said at last as he stood. 

Bilbo rose and followed him a short distance to where several mirrors stood in a corner. The tailor pulled out what appeared to be a flat leather strap that had black stripes across the length of it and began to place it on Bilbo’s arms and back, around his waist and his legs. Both Dori and Balin continued to talk and discussed what he would need in his wardrobe.

Soon there was an order for several pairs of pants, smallclothes, shirts, tunics, robes, weskits and pieces Bilbo wasn’t sure what they were for; in all manner of colors and styles. Bilbo was pinched and prodded and felt his face heat up with embarrassment as the subject of his pregnancy became the main focus.

“I’m sorry?” he said when Dori aimed such a question at him.

“I’m afraid I haven’t had much business with Hobbits, so you’ll pardon my questioning on this matter. But I would like to accommodate your…growth, so as to spare you with the hassle of making several unnecessary trips here.”

“Oh, well, like any other pregnancy I’m sure,” Bilbo replied. Dori pursed his lips a moment as he stared intently at Bilbo’s stomach. He tried very hard not to fidget. Seeming to come to a decision, Dori nodded and turned to Balin as they finalized the arrangement.

“You should expect some of the basic designs within the next few days. And if you have any questions or concerns let me know. It was a pleasure meeting you, Master Baggins.”

“And you as well, thank you, Master Dori.” And Balin had him whisked out of the building and down another bustling street.

“Hmmm, looks like we’re running a bit behind,” Balin muttered and Bilbo wondered how in Arda he could tell that with no sun shining down on them. “Still need to meet with the jewelers and then be back at the palace for lunch.”

Soon Bilbo was rushed into another shop. There were a few armed guards just inside the doorway of this one and Bifur greeted them as he went towards them. Balin ushered Bilbo over towards a counter where a dwarf was working on some pieces of jewelry.

“Hello, Mistress Hotha.”

“Oh, good day, Master Balin.”

Bilbo had to do a double-take as he had assumed on first glance that the dwarf was a male. She was a stout dwarf, laying claim to a large nose accompanied by a beard and mustache which were braided and intertwined with each other. The end result twinkled with rubies which matched her red and gold tunic, with a silky black skirt beneath. She lowered her eyepiece as she looked at them, her eyes scanning over Bilbo and dismissing him immediately. 

Bilbo wasn’t sure if he should take insult to that or not.

“Are you looking for anything in particular? For yourself or for the Family?”

“For the King, actually.”

Bilbo saw how her eyes lit up and she took a new interest in Bilbo at Balin’s side.

“Gretchen, Moglin,” she called out, prompting two younger dwarves to come out from a back room. “Please retrieve cases one-thirty-two, six-fifteen, and one-hundred and six.”

“Yes, Mistress,” they answered and moved quickly back behind the doors. They soon returned with several large boxes in their hands, all of them looking to be made of steel and securely locked. Hotha pulled on a thick metal chain that was around her neck and hung down below the neckline of her tunic. As it came free Bilbo could see there were several differently sized keys attached to it. The boxes were quickly unlocked and turned around for Balin to look at.

Inside one were various rings of all shapes and designs. Some with stones set in them, and some that had places for a particular stone to be placed into. While Balin was looking at those, Hotha opened up the other two boxes. One held chains and pendants of various metals and designs. Some were simple and were complex and twisted into beautiful shapes with gems of various hues. The next box contained gems of all sizes, shapes, and colors.

Bilbo could only blink and stare in amazement. He knew that Dwarves mined for such treasures but he never saw so many in one place. Balin had pulled out some chains, thin and delicate which he held against Bilbo’s hair. This surprised him but figured it must some sort of dwarf thing. Balin and Hotha chatted and seemed to be arguing over which ones looked better and went the best with which jewels. When it seemed they were done with him, Bilbo slowly backed away and turned towards where some colorful items stood on a shelf.

There were cups and plates and a few figurines that were so fine that they amazed Bilbo at their craftsmanship. Some of the jewels were so tiny that he wondered how they had even been cut and fashioned.

“Do you see anything you like?” Balin’s voice asked him.

“Oh, no, but it’s all so lovely,” Bilbo replied, hoping he hadn’t offended anyone. The dwarf woman behind the desk had a pinched look on her face, but he ignored her and turned back to Balin.

“Well, just let me know. Thorin will purchase anything you fancy.” He turned toward the door. “Come along, it’s about time for lunch.”

Their trip back to the palace seemed quicker, which Bilbo was grateful for; he was becoming very tired, and his stomach was beginning to grumble. So it was a pleasant surprise to enter the royal wing and see Thorin already sitting at the table. Bilbo perked up at the sight of him and slid into a chair next to him, giving him a small smile.

“How’s your day been?” Thorin asked him.

“Very busy,” Bilbo said as he tried to hide a yawn and began to dish up a plate of the food that had been laid out.

“Yes, these next several days will be busy for you as we get you settled in for a Dwarrow’s life. But it should slow down soon enough.”

“YES, I knew you couldn’t beat me.” A loud shout startled Bilbo as he spun around to see a blond dwarf rush into the room, followed by a brunet one.

“Just barely, brother,” the loser said with a laugh and huff. They both spotted Bilbo at the same time when they stopped, grinned at each other and ran towards the table.

“Fíli-”

“And Kíli-”

“At your service,” they said together with a small bow.

“Bilbo Baggins, at yours,” he said cautiously, giving Thorin a quick questioning look.

“I see Uncle finally let you out of your room,” Fíli said as he sat down next to Bilbo.

“He refused to let us bother you before, even posted a guard at the door to make sure,” Kíli said with a pout, squeezing between him and Thorin.

“We can take you on a tour of Erebor,” Fíli added.

“We know all the good places,” Kíli said with a wink. Both boys were piling up their plates with food.

Thorin sighed. “Bilbo, these are my nephews. Boys, where is your mother?”

“Oh, she’s running late and wanted us to let you know that she will see you at dinner,” Fili said.

“My sister Dis,” Thorin told Bilbo as he moved over a bit to give Kíli a bit more room. “She has been seeing to some delegates from Minas Tirith.”

“Oh, you should come down to the training fields with us tomorrow. I’m sure we could find something for you to practice with,” Kíli told him.

“Practice with?” Bilbo asked.

“Kíli, that’s not going to be possible right now.”

“Why not?” A hand shot out and smacked him in the back of the head from behind Bilbo.

“Because numb nut he’s…you know…”

“Oww, what…oh,” Kíli stared at his plate as if embarrassed by the whole ordeal, a bright blush on his near-beardless checks.  
Bilbo looked at one and then the other brother; both seemed to be embarrassed about something. 

“It’s alright,” Bilbo said with a small laugh, “I know I’m pregnant.” 

The two seemed to perk up at that. “It’s just that we’ve never seen a male Omega before,” Fíli told him.

“Yes, they are becoming less common,” Bilbo agreed as he ate lunch.

“Are there a lot?” Kíli asked.

“Pardon?” Bilbo asked.

“A lot of Omegas where you come from.”

“Oh, goodness no. They are rare for us Hobbits as well.”

“Well, you should at least come and watch us practice. Master Dwalin says I’ve been improving tons!” Kíli exclaimed.

“That just means he hasn’t been knocked onto his arse as much,” Fíli whispered at Bilbo.

Kíli took exception to that and punched Fili, who in turn retaliated, and soon they were on the floor wrestling behind Bilbo.

“Oh dear,” Bilbo said a little worriedly. 

Thorin reached over and placed a hand on one of his. “This is normal for them.” But he turned a frown on his nephews and made his voice a little louder. “But perhaps I should let Dwalin know they need more practice if they have this much energy still. Or maybe even Balin.”

“Oh please, not Balin,” Kíli groaned as they stopped and stood up, getting in the last jab at his brother.

“What’s wrong with Balin?” Bilbo asked.

“It’s not Balin, but his lessons,” Thorin told him. “Which I believe you should be getting to?” Thorin questioned the boys.

“Already?” they both groaned in unison.

“Yes, and I believe he will be expecting Bilbo to be accompanying you.”

“Really?” Kíli perked up.

“We shall show him the way.” Fíli bowed to his Uncle. The both took one of his arms and gently but firmly ushered him up and towards the door.

“But, I…” Bilbo said as he looked back a moment at Thorin who was getting up himself.

“They will get you there safely, do not worry.” 

Bilbo looked at the mischievous grins on the boys and wondered what their idea of safe was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love to tell stories, especially fanfiction as it has become a passion. But I know my grammar is less than stellar, but I have been slowly improving through time. If any of you lovelies want to take the time to go through a chapter you can email me and I can make appropriate changes and will re-post with credit given. All your comments and kudos keep me going. ^_^  
> morganastarfire at gmail.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo makes a realization as his engagement becomes real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **beta update by Megara09**

The boys did indeed get Bilbo to the library safely. He suspected they may have taken a longer route, what with all the twists and turns they took. It was cute, though, how they pointed out things and chattered on about the quickest route to the kitchens, or the best way to go if you were trying to avoid certain people. Areas they had played when younger that held some, according to them, good hiding places. It brought a smile to his face as they walked.

And once they had reached the library, Bilbo was in heaven. The place was huge. Some of the shelves extended so high above that he wasn’t sure he could even see the top shelf. There was an intricate ladder and elevator system that seemed take the dwarves to the upper shelves when needed. Bilbo was sure he would get dizzy if he went that high. Best to keep his feet here on the ground, thank you very much. There were alcoves and special areas of interest that made Bilbo sigh with contentment, and he hoped there would be more books in Westron that he could read.

He was grateful to sit, though, and observe the goings-on around him. There were many dwarves that moved from shelf to shelf, pulling out and replacing volumes, and small groups that sat around other tables taking notes and arguing quietly among themselves - a few words and phrases in their native tongue reached his ears.

“Hello, there,” a soft voice said. 

Bilbo looked to see a young looking dwarf sit down next to him. “Hello, you must be Ori,” Bilbo said with a smile. “Balin said you would be teaching me.”

“Oh, yes,” he said with a grin. “It’s an honor and a pleasure to do so.” 

Bilbo felt a small blush spread across his face and shook his head slightly looking down. “No, it is my honor. I’m no one special.” Bilbo looked up when the silence at the table grew long. 

Ori looked at him strangely. “You are our King’s betrothed, soon to be Consort, and carry the King’s child. You are someone special.” 

Bilbo simply blinked at the young dwarf for a moment as those words sank in. “Forgive me,” he said slowly. “I’m not used to all this attention.” And it was true. He’d had to listen to Lobelia all his life on how he really was nothing special just because he was a male who could bear children. Any woman could do that, much easier and multiple times compared to him. Even Lord Efren and his people thought him of little worth. 

Ori reached over and patted his arm. “Well, shall we begin then?”

The days seemed to pass by quickly after that. Bilbo would spend his mornings walking, learning the pathways and getting some much-needed exercise, Bifur beside him to make sure he didn’t get lost - an arrangement that Óin had recommended. In the afternoons, he would sit with Ori, learning to speak and read Khuzdul. (The reading was coming along a lot easier than the speaking - a Hobbit’s voice was not designed for the often-guttural language of the Dwarves.) 

And then there were the times he got to go to the kitchens and was able to bake and cook again. That took a little convincing on his part. Thorin hadn’t seemed too thrilled, and the staff seemed a bit scandalized, but after he baked his mother’s famous lemon biscuits, (and Thorin gobbled them down so fast that no one else got any) his access to the kitchen was granted.

And at least once a day, he was down the hallway from his and Thorin’s rooms preparing the nursery. It was slow and steady work, and Bilbo enjoyed it immensely. Bifur helped the most with moving all the heavier items - furniture and tables and such. The Dwarf even took him to the market to some of the better shops to purchase what more was needed. Some of the items need to be repaired or replaced, as Fíli and Kíli were the last royal children born and they had been a bit…hard on the furniture, or so he was told. Bilbo smiled fondly as Dís told him stories about the pair.

One shop Bifur had taken him to was filled with toys of various shapes, sizes, and colors. Some were made of wood, some of metal. Many had moving metal parts along with jewels that sparkled as they turned and twisted. A variety of animals and small armies of dwarves stood battle ready on shelves. Dragons were ready to be slain and finely crafted dolls with delicate Dwarven clothing sat ready for a young one to love.

“Oh my,” Bilbo whispered as his fingers gently traced the fine details of a dragon. The creature was a brilliant blue with scales that covered its entire body. Its mouth was open in a roar with its many white teeth to snap its enemy in two. The eyes caught the light and glittered blood red, and Bilbo was pretty sure that they were real rubies.

“Ya like her?” 

Bilbo turned to the dwarf that asked the question. He wore a funny looking hat and had kind eyes and an easy smile. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you. Not many dwarves like dragons. Think they’re bad luck, they do.”

“Why would they think that?” Bilbo asked.

“On account of their love of gold. It wouldn’t be the first time a dragon came to loot dwarves of their treasures. And I’m sure it won’t be the last.” All this was said with a grin and a shrug of the shoulders. 

Bilbo could only smile back. “Well, I think it’s lovely.”

The shopkeeper laughed. “Now, what can I be doing for ye, your highness?”

“Oh, none of the now, please. I’m just Bilbo.”

“Bofur, at your service,” the dwarf said with a quick bow. “Bifur said something about you coming by this week. Let me show you a few things that might interest you.”

“You know Bifur?” Bilbo asked as Bofur gently guided him towards another area of the shop.

“Oh aye. ‘E’s me cousin. Here we are now. Just the thing for wee ones.” 

Bilbo looked at the small shaped rattles and dolls that were the perfect size for keeping the attention of a young one. “Bifur never said anything about you being his cousin.” 

Bofur laughed out loud at that. “Unless you understand Khuzdul, then you wouldn’t have understood.” 

Bilbo felt his cheeks heat up. “Well, I can pick out a few words. I am catching on quicker with the Iglishmêk than the spoken language, I’m afraid.”

“Don’t let it bother ya much. He probably didn’t mention that Bombur was my brother as well.”

“No, he did not,” Bilbo said, slightly stunned. And he had spent quite a bit of time in the kitchens with Bombur. Bofur thought that was hilarious and continued to show Bilbo some of his more exquisite work. It wasn’t long before Bilbo had an order in and was heading back to the royal wing to collapse and take a long and much-needed nap.

It was something he seemed to be doing more and more of lately, this napping in the late afternoon. And on top of that, he was still able to go to bed in the evening and sleep all night.

That night, he woke with Thorin pressed against his back, his hand slowly and gently rubbing his belly where the child was. It was beginning to round out, and there were times Bilbo swore he felt something like butterflies moving within. 

Bilbo smiled and turned to him. The room was dark and the fireplace had long since died down, but there was enough light to see the outline of Thorin’s features. “Hi,” he said quietly. 

Thorin smiled back “Did I wake you?”

“No, not really,” Bilbo said as he reached a hand up to run his fingers through Thorin’s beard. 

Thorin gave a contented sigh as his hands went around Bilbo, pulling him a little closer. It still amazed him at how well they fit together. Bilbo entwined his legs with Thorin’s and tilted his head up to brush his soft lips across Thorin’s slightly rougher ones.

Thorin responded softly but eagerly. One of his hands slid up Bilbo’s back to his hair and carded his fingers through his curls, tilting his head so that the kiss could be deepened. Bilbo whimpered into the kiss, enjoying the slow, soft pressure as Thorin’s tongue explored his mouth.

They pulled apart so they could breathe, their foreheads pressed together. Thorin placed kisses on his cheek, his nose, and along his neck. His hands were shifting and moving all over Bilbo’s body, and Bilbo had to adjust slightly as his sleeping shirt was removed. Thorin’s kisses didn’t stop as they traveled down his chest, teeth nibbling at his nipples. Bilbo gasped, as they had become more sensitive now and made his cock harden and a wanton moan escape him.

Still, Thorin continued his gentle kissing and touching, paying a lot of attention to his belly. Those sinful lips moving downwards until he took Bilbo’s member into his mouth. Bilbo gasped with the pleasure as Thorin gently sucked him, those sinful lips moving up and down on his engorged prick. His heavy breathing filled the air and his little sounds of pleasure kept Thorin planted there.

Large, calloused hands gently shifted Bilbo’s legs further apart, which he moved willingly. A thick digit slid easily into his wet hole, and Thorin’s groan of delight around his cock made him whimper with the pleasure. The ease of entry was one of the perks of being an Omega male, and Thorin quickly took advantage of said perk as he eased a second finger inside. The Dwarven king insisted on opening him up slowly, which was driving him mad with desire. Soon, pleas were falling from his lips as Bilbo tried to get Thorin to stop his ministrations and put something thicker and harder inside him.

“So impatient,” Thorin chuckled, his voice low and thick with want as he pulled away.

“Please, Thorin. I want you in me,” Bilbo begged. He didn’t have to wait long after that before Thorin was hovering over him and slowly, tortuously pushed inside.

The feeling made Bilbo feel so good, so full. The pace Thorin set was driving him mad as he pushed in and out slowly. Not that Bilbo was complaining. He wrapped his legs around Thorin’s waist, pressing the heels of his feet into his arse, trying to get the hint across. Thorin softly chuckled as he nuzzled his neck, peppering him with kisses and plundered his mouth with his tongue.

It was a sudden change when Thorin snapped his hips forward, startling a yelp of pleasure from Bilbo, who mumbled encouragement of more. As his lover's control began quickly slipping, Bilbo moaned and writhed beneath him as he neared his own release. It didn’t take either of them long. Breath caught in his throat, Bilbo gasped as he clutched Thorin to him when he climaxed and held on until Thorin found his own release. Their hot breath mingled, foreheads pressed together, body and limbs still pressed tightly against and around each other. It was hot and sticky, but Bilbo felt so safe and protected that he couldn’t even complain. Even though Thorin was covering him, he was still mindful not to put his full weight on top of him.

They both readjusted themselves so that Bilbo once again lay with Thorin holding him from behind. He gave a small sigh of contentment and quickly fell back to sleep.

One day moved to the next and the next with so many things to do. Bilbo had begun to make friends and made time to visit them. Between with the nursery, his lessons, and making sure the baby would have clothes and blankets ready, Bilbo was kept busy.   
Standing, he placed one hand on his back and the other on his belly and stretched the best he could. Sometimes his back would ache, and there seemed to be little he could do. A soak in a warm bath always seemed to do the trick, at least for a short while.

A commotion out in the common area got his attention, and Bilbo peeked his head out the door to see what was going on.   
Fíli and Kíli were talking with their mother Dis.

“Why? It just seems pointless,” Kíli complained.

“Because it’s a formal affair and you are now old enough to start behaving like the dwarf prince you are.”

“Well, why can’t it just be Fíli then? Why must I have to endure such boredom?”

“Oy!” Fíli yelped as he took a swipe at his brother. “I think it’s only fair. If I am forced to do this then so should you. You’re also Uncle’s heir after all.”

“Both of you will be there. Both of you will behave for the sake of your Uncle, whom I seem to have to remind you is your King, and for his soon to be Consort.”

“Bilbo!” Kíli greeted him and headed over to him. “Mother is forcing us to dress in formal clothes to go to the betrothal ceremony for you and Uncle. Tell her we’re not yet old enough for such stuffiness.”

Bilbo had to hide his smile and put his hands into the air. “Sorry, boys, but I have no say in the matter. Mother’s rule is law I’m afraid.”

“But you will soon be Consort. Surely that should count for something?” Fili asked.

He could only laugh at the hopeful look on both of their faces. “I wouldn’t disgrace your mother like that, and neither shall you. Be grateful for your mother, and I agree with her. Besides,” he leaned in conspiratorially, “if I have to endure this affair, I need someone to commiserate with.”

“Now, leave Bilbo alone. We have an appointment with Dori this afternoon unless you would rather go to lessons with Balin?”   
They both agreed wholeheartedly to go with her to Dori’s.

“And you as well Mister Baggins.”

“Oh, but I have a closet full of clothes. Surely I don’t need anything new,” Bilbo protested. Dis just arched one eyebrow and Bilbo knew he really had no choice in the matter.

“I’m sure Dori has prepared something special for the upcoming ceremony. You wouldn’t want to offend him now would you?”

“O-of course not.”

“Then let’s get going, shall we?”

xx

The large room was full of Dwarves, Men, and Elves. There was lively music filling the air as a band of dwarves played their instruments, and in the center of the room, a place had been cleared for those who wanted to dance. At the opposite end stood the high tables where Bilbo and Thorin had been seated for the first part of dinner, along with the other nobles and those with high titles. Although they were served and platters still sat there, many tables along the outside were laden with various meats and dishes. Ale and beer flowed freely, and there was much song and laughter. Several small fire pits stood with attendants, and candles hung from the ceiling, encircled with glass and mirrors that were arranged to bounce light off each other and light up the place.

Smiling, Bilbo enjoyed watching the festivities. It had been overwhelming at first, as every eye had been upon him and Thorin when they had first entered the hall. He was so nervous he had been shaking. Thorin had taken his hand and given it a gentle squeeze, reassuring him, and hadn’t let go until Bilbo felt a bit more comfortable. Bifur was never far from him, and soon he found others he knew and could converse with. Even the introductions with the high ranking Dwarven officials hadn’t gone too terribly. Most of them seemed polite enough, but Bilbo could tell there were more than a few that disapproved of him.

The men were next as he was introduced to King Bard and his wife, along with their children - Bain, his oldest son, along with his two lovely young daughters. The mayor of Lake Town was a huge man that seemed to always steer the conversation back towards himself and the troubles he had to deal with - things that hardly seemed like troubles to Bilbo. But he nodded politely and listened and was glad when Thorin moved towards the elves.

King Thranduil was cool and aloof and merely glanced at Bilbo before returning his attention back to Thorin. Legolas, the King’s son, introduced himself and had a soft smile for him. He began to ask Bilbo all sorts of questions about his pregnancy, as it seemed elves never had Omega males. It was an interesting conversation.

After that, Thorin escorted him back to the High Table where they could sit and eat some more and where those who were there could have the opportunity to approach them. Much of it revolved around politics, guilds, treaties and the state of roads between the kingdoms. Bilbo listened mostly, his eyes watching the others move around the floor before him.

“Hello, Bilbo,” Ori said as he approached him.

“Ori, so good to see you, please have a seat,” Bilbo said, truly happy that his friend had appeared.

“Enjoying the festivities?”

“Oh, quite. So many people, I wasn’t expecting this to be so large.”

“Well, it’s not every day our King gets betrothed,” Ori said with a smile.   
When put that way, it sent a rush of dizziness through Bilbo and Ori put a hand to steady him within his seat. “Are you alright?” the young Dwarf asked.

“Bilbo?” Thorin turned a concerned look at him.

“Fine, just need some fresh air and a bit of water is all,” Bilbo waved him off with a smile. “Would you join me, Ori?”

“Yes, of course.”

There was an area over by the large barrels of ale where Bilbo stopped and placed his hands on the table, trying to keep his breathing even.

“Here,” Ori said as he handed him a cup of water. 

Bilbo straightened and took it, but his hands were shaking, and some of the water sloshed over the rim. He set it back down on the table. 

“Bilbo, are you alright?” Ori asked softly.

“I can’t do this,” Bilbo whispered and shook his head. “I can’t.” He turned to Ori. “I’m just a Hobbit. Nobody special. I can birth children, but any woman can do that.” Bilbo could feel tears pricking his eyes. “Thorin is a King. He deserves someone better beside him. Someone worthy enough for him. Someone who knows how to function in these situations. I…I’m…” Bilbo sniffled and Ori pulled him in for a hug while Bilbo tried to get his tears under control.

“I think you should let me decide who is worthy enough for me,” a familiarly deep voice said. 

Bilbo jumped back and turned, wiping his eyes. A warm hand was placed on his shoulder and gently but firmly turned him around. Fingers were placed under his chin and Bilbo looked up into Thorin’s face. Those brilliant blue eyes looked into his own and Bilbo could see the concern there.

“Do not underestimate your worth, ghivashel. I do not choose lightly, nor from obligation. Know this, Bilbo, that I have chosen you to stand by me as my Consort and none other.”

More tears prickled Bilbo’s eyes but for different reasons this time. A soft wave of music flowed towards them, and Thorin tilted his head slightly listening to the tune. “Come, dance with me.” 

Thorin took Bilbo’s hand in his and led him towards the floor where other couples were moving slowly, hands clasped together in a rhythmic movement.

“I don’t know how, ” Bilbo whispered as Thorin stood before him. 

The King took his smaller hands in his and smiled. “Just follow my movements.” 

And just like that, they were moving across the floor. Bilbo was worried about stepping or tripping on Thorin’s feet, and there were a few misguided steps until he felt the rhythm. Thorin twirled and moved him around easily, and soon he became more relaxed as they seemed to flow around the floor. When he looked up at Thorin, he felt his stomach jolt and his breath caught in his throat at the expression he found there.

The smile and soft look in Thorin’s eyes as they danced made Bilbo feel like they were the only two people there. All other noise had faded into the background and for several moments, it was only them. Bilbo knew, he knew in that moment that he loved Thorin. This Dwarf, this King that, for some unknown reason, had forgiven Bilbo his transgression and wanted him to be his.

It was a terrifying thought, and yet exhilarating at the same time. He vowed to himself, then and there, that no matter what happened, Bilbo was going to do everything in his power to make his Dwarf happy; he deserved that much. When the music ended, Thorin bowed to him and Bilbo returned the gesture. 

A jaunty tune began and Kíli came over to them. “May I, Uncle?” Thorin looked at Bilbo, who only shrugged.

“Why not,” Bilbo replied. 

Kíli whisked him away, showing him some of the livelier dance steps as they went along. It was spirited and fast, and Bilbo was enjoying himself immensely. Fili came and took a turn, and as the evening wore, on Bilbo didn’t think he had laughed so long or hard in his entire life. He felt like he was…home.

Feeling giddy, Bilbo made his way towards Thorin, who was showing King’s Bard’s youngest daughter - Bilbo believed her name was Tilda - some dwarven dance steps. He stopped to watch, warmth spreading through him as he absently rubbed his belly. He could picture Thorin doing the same with their own daughter. Taking her hands, having her stand on his boots as he showed her the steps. As if sensing him, Thorin glanced up, and Bilbo gave a small wave and smiled. Thorin grinned and went back to his lessons.

Love. 

Yes, he loved Thorin. And Thorin had spoken many times about choosing Bilbo, but it wasn’t the same as a One. It was possible that it was because of some kind of bond with him being an Omega, but that didn’t make it the same. Even if it was because of his Omega blood, Bilbo knew that he loved Thorin - a dwarf who had given Bilbo a chance at something he never thought he would have a chance at again: a family and a permanent home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you podfic? Do you know people who podfic? Do you want to podfic? I have a project I am working on and need more voice actors for all our dwarves. If you are interested contact me at morganastarfire @ gmail. I am also on Tumblr, morganastarfire. 
> 
> Look, two chapters in one day! I've been a busy girl.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A battle is looming on the horizon, and Bilbo finds a new friend.
> 
> **beta update by Megara09**

Bilbo groaned as he rolled over in bed, the call of nature pressing greatly on him. Thorin’s soft snores beside him continued without pause as he slipped out of bed as gracefully as possible and headed to the water closet. His gait was getting to be more of a waddle than a walk, and lately, he had to make the trip to the bathroom at least three times a night. He rubbed his extending stomach while putting one hand on his back. It had begun to ache more lately, and his feet and legs had become more swollen.

He quietly headed back to bed and burrowed gratefully under the covers, pressing himself against Thorin who immediately, unconsciously, pulled him into his arms. With a sigh, Bilbo quickly fell back to sleep.

When he woke again, Thorin was gone, but it must not have been too long, as his side was still warm. A slight commotion from the closet had him looking in that direction in time to see his dwarf emerge, dressed for the day. Walking over to the bed, Thorin leaned over and gave him a good morning kiss.

“Good morning,” Bilbo whispered as Thorin pulled back.

“It is,” Thorin responded with a soft smile, his fingers combing through Bilbo’s curls for a moment before he straightened up. “I’ll have them bring breakfast in unless you would like to sleep later.”

“No, no I better get up. Ori is going to show me Raven Hill today, and we had planned to have lunch with his family.”

“Be careful, my ghivashel.” And with another quick kiss, Thorin left. 

Bilbo rolled over to where Thorin usually lay and inhaled his scent, wrapping his arms around the pillow. He felt content and sleepy but knew he needed to get moving. His bladder would get him moving again soon enough.

Moving quickly once he decided to get up, Bilbo washed up and got dressed and went out to where breakfast was waiting. He sat and began to pile his plate full of the meats and eggs, along with bread and cream. He was glad to be past the morning sickness.

“Good morning, Bilbo,” Fíli said as he sat down next to him and piled up his own plate.

“Good morning. Where’s Kíli?”

“Still abed. I tried to get him up, but he wouldn’t budge. So, I will leave him to amad.”

“Oh dear,” Bilbo said. “He isn’t sick, is he?”

“Nothing like that,” Fíli said with a wink. “At least nothing that couldn’t be prevented.” 

Right on cue, there was a loud shriek and some loud female cursing and then quiet. Not a minute later, Kíli slumped down next to his brother, laying his head down on the table, his clothes hastily put on and his hair still wet and clinging to him. 

Fíli snickered quietly while Kíli muttered for him to shut it. Fíli leaned over towards Bilbo. “Tried to out drink an Elf,” the elder prince whispered.

Bilbo could only shake his head with a small smile on his face.

XXX

It was lovely to be outside. The sun shone and warmed Bilbo’s skin quickly, and he gave a hearty sigh. Even the smell was like a kiss from the Valar. He could smell the trees and flowers, the earth beneath the wheels of the cart, all of it mingled together. Inhaling deeply, Bilbo held it for a moment before releasing it. Ori chuckled next to him as he rode his pony alongside the cart.

“What?” Bilbo asked teasingly.

“Are all hobbits like you?” Ori asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You know, like all this open air.”

“Yes, we love the earth and green things. Fields and gardens have always been one of our talents.”

“Where is your family from?” 

Bilbo looked down at his hands and rubbed his belly to postpone answering. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” Ori said.

“No, it’s not that,” Bilbo told him. “Once, long ago, my people prospered in the West. The clans were united then, settling down and building homes. Smails is what we called them. We aren’t much different than dwarves in that aspect.” Bilbo gave a small laugh. “Our people built their homes in the ground. But they weren’t dirty or dank, mind you. They were built for comfort and family, full of light.”

“What happened?”

“A plague on the land, well before my time. I was told that it spread so fast they weren’t able to get it under control. The land died, no crops would grow. The water grew foul and undrinkable, and they were forced to move on, find another place to call home.”

“And they still haven’t found a place?” Ori asked.

“No.” Bilbo shook his head, unable to look at his friend. If only he knew the real truth. Of why Bilbo was pregnant with Thorin’s child and how his family was out there still, looking for a place to live and call home after Bilbo had ruined their opportunity for such a luxury.

They were all quiet for a while, the wheels and wagon creaking and the hooves of the horses striking the ground the only sound for a bit. Bifur had begun to hum some song as they rode, and Bilbo hoped that it wouldn’t be too much farther; his back was beginning to hurt, and all the bumps weren’t doing his bladder any favors.

“Tell me about your family,” Bilbo said.

“Well, you already know Dori, my oldest brother.”

“Dori? The master tailor?”

“Yes,” Ori practically giggled.

“I didn’t know he was your brother,” Bilbo gasped.   
Ori just smiled at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t mention it,” he said. “And really, I hadn’t known you had met up with him that first day until later that evening when I had returned home. He was in such a state, had materials strung all over the place, working on your wardrobe I believe.”

“Oh dear, I hope he didn’t stress over that too much. That was entirely Balin’s idea.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. It’s nice for him to actually fuss and concentrate on something else for a change. Our parents passed at an early age for Dwarves, and Dori took the mantle upon himself to care for the rest of us. He can be such a fusspot.” Ori leaned over closer to him to whisper, “Don’t tell him I said that, though.” He straightened back up with a smile. “Big projects keep him busy, so that was good for him. I have another brother, one between Dori and me. His name is Nori and he works for the royal family.”

“What does he do?” Bilbo asked. “Don’t tell me I’ve met him as well and don’t know it?”

“Well, it is possible you’ve met, but I wouldn’t know. I don’t see much of Nori, he is so busy. Mostly he works with those less …savory. He deals with information.”

“Information?”

Ori sighed. “Like secrets, thieves, and assassination attempts. I worry about him at times, and I know that Dori does as well. There have been times he has shown up at home a bit beat up, or with an infected stab wound. It’s not a very pleasant business, but it’s one that seems to be important to him.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Bilbo agree. “And you said he works with the royal family?”

“Yes, closely I’m sure. Probably with Dwalin the most, since he is in charge of the military and close friends with the King.”

“Oh.” Bilbo wracked his brain but was coming up with a blank. “I’m afraid I haven’t met him. Will he be at dinner tonight?”

“It’s possible. I sent a Raven, so it really depends on whether he is even in Erebor at the moment. I’m sure he already knows all about you, though,” Ori said with a smile. 

Bilbo grimaced and hoped that Nori wouldn’t be there. If what Ori said was true, then Nori would indeed know all there was to know about Bilbo and how he had ended up in this situation. What would Dori think, or even Ori? Would they still want to be his friends afterward, or would they be too disgusted? Bilbo felt tears pricking his eyes and bit his bottom lip to keep them from spilling. Curse these hormones - it seemed like he could cry at the silliest of things lately.

Several ravens flew close overhead, their cawing sounding urgent as they passed. It was enough that it had Bifur slowing the cart down and Ori looking up with a frown as well.

“What is it?” Bilbo asked. 

One of the birds circled overhead then flew down towards them and perched near Bifur. It spoke in something similar to the garbled tongue of the dwarves, but it was harsher, and Bilbo still hadn’t learned enough to understand its dialect. 

Ori gasped which had Bilbo looking to him. “A band of Orcs and wargs are near.” 

Bifur clucked at the ponies and they began a quick pace towards the hill. They weren’t far, and Bilbo held onto the side as Bifur pushed them harder. More birds left and came, a small swarm of them circling. Bilbo swallowed and felt a bit of relief as they entered the guarded structure of the outpost.

The place was up in arms, with soldiers getting the defense system in place. Bifur gently but firmly lifted Bilbo from the wagon and motioned for him to follow, which Bilbo did as he grabbed hold of Ori. They moved through the keep and up towards a small tower that overlooked the valley below.

As Bilbo peered over the edge, he could see what looked like a small army of Orc and Wargs in the distance. He swallowed and his breathing hitched a bit. Bilbo had never seen so many. 

Ori patted his arm and Bilbo turned to him wide eyed. “Don’t worry, we are well fortified here, and look-” Ori began as he pointed back the way they had come. 

Bilbo turned back towards the Mountain, where a loud horn could be heard in the distance. Even though it was a long distance away, the height they were at gave them the advantage of seeing the gates to the Lonely Mountain open as what appeared to be a small army seemed to spill out of it. They were too far away to make out any details of the riders or soldiers, but there was no doubt of who they were.

A sounding echo had him turning his attention towards Dale as a similar size of armed men exited the city on horseback and on foot.

“Come, better get you inside,” Ori said as Bifur gestured at them and ordered them to move along. They headed into a smaller room where Bifur immediately closed the wooden slats near the windows as Ori built up the fire. The room was circular, and Bilbo looked up and could see the pointed center of the ceiling where along the edges the sunlight still poured in. They were rectangular openings where the ravens could fly in and deliver messages. There were even a few nests against the walls and in the rafters.

Bilbo went and sat in on of the chairs. Worry and fear spread through him as he heard the sounds of the soldiers preparing for battle below them. One of the ravens flew over and landed next to him on the arm of the chair. It startled Bilbo enough that he gave out a small squeak. The raven didn’t look to be very big and Bilbo figured that he or she must be too young to be allowed out. 

The raven spoke to him in its garbled, guttural language. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” Bilbo said softly. 

The raven cawed and shook its head at him and jumped a few times before trying again.

“Here, drink some tea,” Ori said as he joined him.   
Bilbo gladly took the tea, as it gave him something to hold onto and think about besides what was happening outside.

“She is asking what your name is,” Ori said with a nod towards the bird still perched on Bilbo’s chair.

“Oh,” Bilbo said and turned to the raven. “Bilbo Baggins, at your service,” he said with a nod of his head. The raven responded with an excited chirp and more stilted, garbled language, prompting Bilbo to turn hopeful eyes towards Ori.

“Her name is Noc, and she has heard much about you,” the scribe dutifully translated.

“Pleased to meet you, Noc,” Bilbo said, distractedly glancing at the closed door where Bifur was standing at the ready, ax in hand. He heard some more conversation, between Noc and Ori.

“She said not to worry, that the orcs are foolish to raid so close to the Dwarves and Men, especially during the day.”

“I’ve never seen so many Orcs before,” the Hobbit said quietly, no small amount of fear in his voice. He couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down his spine. If a group that size had ever come across his clan, they wouldn’t have stood a chance.

Noc said something that Ori agreed to. Then she jumped onto Bilbo’s knee and did that sideways look that birds tend to do when they looked at something closely. 

Bilbo smiled and found her quite endearing. “Would you like some tea?” he asked her. 

Noc turned her head to the other side and said something that had Ori giggling.

“What?” Bilbo asked.

“She wants to know if you are a beardless Dwarf,” Ori said with a laugh.

Bilbo couldn’t stop his own chuckle from escaping as well before replying that he was a Hobbit, speaking in Khuzdul with Ori’s help. It turned into a language lesson as Bilbo would try out his phrases on Noc and try to understand what she said in reply. He hadn’t noticed how quiet it had gotten until the door banged open and he looked up to see Thorin stride into the room. He was dressed in full armor and his blue eyes turned to him immediately.

Relief washed through Bilbo and he stood and ran towards his kingly lover, tears slipping down his face that he just couldn’t stop. Strong arms wrapped around him, and he could barely hear what Thorin muttered as he was hugged, but at that moment he didn’t care.

“Are you well?” Thorin asked him as he pulled back and Bilbo looked up at him.

“Yes, Noc and Ori kept me company, and we even worked on my Khuzdul.” 

Thorin stepped back and looked him up and down to make sure that no harm had come over him. “Come, let’s get you back inside the Mountain where it’s safe. There is trouble brewing, and a council has been called.” Thorin slipped an arm around Bilbo’s shoulders as he guided him back out and down into the courtyard.

“More Orcs?” Bilbo asked anxiously.

“Yes,” came the short reply. Stopping before a pony, Thorin easily lifted Bilbo up and swung up into the saddle behind him.   
Bilbo took a quick look and could see that Ori and Bifur were right behind them, along with a small force of Dwarves.

Thorin moved their mount into motion, and they were soon riding at a fast past back to Erebor. Bilbo huddled against the front of Thorin, those strong arms hugging him close. Bilbo felt the baby move and reached down to rub his belly. A larger hand was placed on top of his, and he looked up into Thorin’s blue eyes, drinking in the protection and promise he saw there. Bilbo laid his head back against Thorin, not trusting himself to not say something stupid. Oh, but he loved this Dwarf; he only wished he felt like he deserved him.

XX

It turned to be very late - or early morning, depending on who you asked - before Thorin was able to make it back to his chambers. The meeting had gone late into the night as ravens flew in and out. It kept his mind off what had happened earlier that day. The fear and terror that had gripped him. It was something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

When he had learned of the Orc pack out near Raven Hill, where his soon to be Consort had gone, it had sent him into a state of unimaginable horror. All Thorin could remember was donning his armor and riding out. Dwalin was there, barking orders to the men, but all Thorin was concerned about was getting to Bilbo. Nothing else mattered.

The Orcs were quickly taken care of, and the relief at finding Bilbo safe and sound, with not even a scratch on him, had almost made his knees buckle. Thank Mahal and his Lady. He hoped that Bilbo hadn’t detected the slight shaking in his body as he pulled him into an embrace. It took him a few seconds to get his feelings under control, but once he did and made sure that Bilbo was fine, they headed back to Erebor. And Bilbo was not allowed out of his sight until he was safe behind the doors of the Royal wing.

Then it was to the war room.

His cousin Dain was reporting a large army heading towards the Iron hills from the Sea of Rhun. They must be led by someone powerful if they were able to control such a large army of Orc and to get them to move in daylight. A large painted map was spread out before them on the table. Dwalin was on one side of him, with another General on the other side. Balin stood opposite of him staring at the map, one hand stroking his long beard.

“If we head out and meet Dain here, we can easily push them back.”

“Yes, but we don’t want them to be able to get around us. The best spot would be for us to wait here,” Dwalin said with a pointed finger. “Lure them out, so ta speak, let them think they have the advantage. Then bring the remaining army from behind. That way we can cut off their retreat and greatly thin their numbers.”

“Agreed. Balin?” Thorin asked.

“Speak with King Bard and see about putting archers along the ridge here, and over here,” he said as he pointed at the map. “It could add to the confusion.”

“And if we take out the leader, they will run like headless chickens,” Grie said next to him. “Best to finish them off then.”

“Balin, send word to King Bard and to Dain. We will leave at first light.”   
The room was a flurry of motion and Thorin finally found himself striding towards his rooms, but was deterred before he could enter them. Both of his nephews stood there, ready to battle, a look of determination on their faces.

“No,” he told him. “You are still too young.”

“As your heir, I should be there with you. I am of age, Thorin,” Fíli said, taking a step towards him, exuding an air of confidence that Thorin was proud to see, but would not show at this moment.

“Which is why you should be here, keeping the defense in order and the city guarded.”

“Kíli can do that! I should be the one out there by your side.”

“What? No, I should be there with you and Thorin, watching your back,” Kíli spat angrily.

“Fíli –“

“You were half my age when you saw battle, not even of age.” Fili took another step closer as continued to plead his case. “I am of age and your heir and have just as much right in protecting our kingdom at your side rather than hiding behind the walls.”

“It is not hiding!” Thorin protested. “Our people live here and need to be protected, so do not demean it.” Fíli looked contrite but still determined. 

“I can fill in just as well here inside the mountain,” a firm, yet soft voice said. 

Thorin turned towards his sister. 

Dis had her lips pursed together as she viewed her sons, giving them a thorough look over. “Fili is right. He is of age and should be at your side, and where he goes you cannot stop Kíli. Might as well let them go so you can keep an eye on them.” Her eyes locked with his, and he felt his own objections fading. The steely strength in her gaze, he found in her sons’. But there was also a worry and fear that every parent feels. Thorin felt that fear with his nephews, and more so now with Bilbo.

“I will watch them closely,” he said as he stepped towards her and embraced her, pressing his forehead against hers. “Please watch over Bilbo for me.”

“I will, namad. Rest assured of that.” She then turned to her sons and embraced each one, speaking soft words to them before they were racing towards the stables and most likely to Dwalin.

Now Thorin stood in his rooms, a worried hobbit in his arms. He was surprised he wasn’t asleep already, but he could see the slight dark circles under Bilbo’s eyes and the red-rimmed outline as if he had been crying.

“How long are you going to be gone?” Bilbo asked him as Thorin picked him up. 

The Dwarf strode into their chambers and sat down in a chair with his Hobbit in his lap. “It will depend on how large this army is and who leads them. If it goes well, then several months is the best outcome.” He could feel the Hobbit trembling in his arms. “Do not fear, ghivashel, you will be safe here.”

Bilbo shook his head and wrapped his arms tightly around Thorin’s neck. “Promise me you will come back safely.”

“I promise,” Thorin said softly as he ran his hands up and down Bilbo’s back in comfort. “The time will pass quickly, you will see.”

“OH!” Bilbo exclaimed and pulled back, looking down at his stomach. 

Thorin looked at him with confusion before Bilbo sat back and took one of his hands and pressed it against the round firmness of his stomach that was showing there. “What…?” Thorin began to ask, but stopped as he felt it. It was the softest of movements, but the smile that broke over his Hobbit’s face told him what he needed to know. “Is that-?”

“Yes, you silly Dwarf. Your child.” 

Thorin stared at amazement at the place where his hand was before spreading his hand across the expanse and pressing a little harder. He was rewarded with a few more soft kicks. Looking up at Bilbo’s smiling face had Thorin grinning like a fool. Pulling the Hobbit into a fierce hug, he captured Bilbo’s lips with his, trying to express how he felt through a kiss.

They pulled back, both out of breath, foreheads resting against the other. So much emotion was spinning through Thorin. His Consort, his child. To make them safe he would eliminate this approaching evil.

They sat there for a short while until it was time for him to go. Dis would keep them safe, and he would return. There was too much at stake for him not to. Thorin took one last slow kiss before turning to leave.

“Thorin,” Bilbo called out just before he left. 

He turned to see Bilbo run into their bedchamber and rush out. 

“It’s not quite finished, but at least it’s something to take with you,” he said shyly as he handed Thorin a piece of knitted scarf, not quite long enough to be much more than a handkerchief. It was a dark bright blue and soft to the touch. “I was hoping to have it finished for winter, like a scarf, but figured it was the only thing I could send you off with…” Bilbo’s face turned bright red and he looked to the floor.

“I shall keep it with me to remind me of you,” Thorin told him as he slipped the square piece of needlework into his pocket. Then, bending down, he stole one more kiss before he turned and left. He could feel his own cheeks heat with slight embarrassment. He would return, and perhaps tell his Hobbit that he had been wrong. He did have a One and he had been with Thorin this entire time.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin returns from battle but not in the same shape as he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **beta update by Megara09**

Bilbo rubbed his belly, which had gotten quite large over the last month. He received a kick to the bladder in return and groaned at the discomfort. Ori glanced up at him and then back down at his scrolls with a small smile.

“This one is going to be a fighter like his father, that’s for sure,” Bilbo grunted. Thoughts of Thorin always led him to worry. It had been four months since the king and his forces had left, and the campaign was going well, according to Dis. The ravens flew back and forth for communication, and Thorin had sent him missives as often as he could, with Bilbo responding in like. Secretly, he had hoped that Thorin would have been back by now.

“I’m sure His Majesty will be pleased to hear that,” Ori agreed as he transcribed important information into a ledger.  
Bilbo almost smiled to think of the small sword or ax Thorin would make for their little one. Bilbo wasn’t sure how he would be able to handle it if his son or daughter were to go out fighting, though. The thought alone was terrifying and made tears well up in his eyes, which he brushed angrily away. Damn these hormones. He would have to ask Dis how she was doing. Maybe she could give him some advice.

Looking down at his parchment, Bilbo could see that he really hadn’t gotten very far today. He practiced writing and speaking the Dwarven language each day, but sometimes his concentration just wasn’t in it. Dis had told him that it was commonly called pregnancy head. It fuddled up the mind so you couldn’t concentrate on things like you normally could. 

A familiar caw drew his attention, and he looked up and smiled as Noc glided down towards them. Bilbo had been surprised to learn that there were many places the ravens could get to through small, secret tunnels above them. They were only raven-sized of course, and only the ravens knew where they were.

“Greeting, Bilbo.”

“Hello, Noc,” Bilbo replied in Khuzdul. He was getting better, and practicing with Noc helped keep his mind off of certain things.

“Hello, Noc, bring any interesting news today?” Ori asked. 

Noc was still too young to be allowed to fly to battle and back. Bilbo found it quite interesting, the inner structure of the ravens.  
Noc jumped to the table and eyed the scrolls there. “Dwarf King returns,” she said as she hopped and jumped onto the back of the chair and began to preen her feathers.

“Well, that’s wonderful news,” Bilbo exclaimed, his heart lightening up for the first time since Thorin had left. “When will they get here?”   
Noc replied, but it was too quick for him to catch and he looked to Ori.

“Possibly within a fortnight,” Ori supplied and they grinned at each other. Bilbo rubbed his belly.

Hear that little one? Soon your father will be back, and we can both rest easier.

Except that when they returned, it wasn’t the happy reunion Bilbo was expecting.

He had been given the news the previous day, and now he stood in the courtyard, anxiously waiting, his hands wringing in front of him while trying to keep up a brave face. By the sorrowful looks he kept receiving, he was sure his red-rimmed eyes gave him away. Thorin had been gravely injured in battle, and they were rushing him back to the city. Dis stood at Bilbo’s side, a hand slid into his and she squeezed gently every so often; he appreciated her strength.

It was all commotion as they arrived. Orders being shouted, dwarves rushing about. The wagon creaked to a stop and the mounted guard around the back dismounted as several others moved to do Óin’s bidding, the healer sitting in the back with his patient.   
Bilbo rushed over as fast as he could, which really wasn’t very fast these days.

“Get him out, gently for Mahal’s sake,” Óin ordered. “Get him to the healing halls.”   
Bilbo gasped at how pale Thorin looked and at the blood soaked bandages wrapped around his head and his middle. A strong hand gently pulled him back out of the way as they moved Thorin into the castle.

“What happened?” Dis demanded of Dwalin as they followed.

“It was a fucking ambush,” Dwalin growled. “We came across a caravan that had been attacked, and Thorin ordered for us to stop and help the injured and repair their wagons. It was nearly noon, so when those scum attacked it was more of a surprise than anything. Some of the women started screaming and scattered which split us up a bit.” 

Bilbo was hardly listening as his full focus was on Thorin. He blinked back tears as he kept pace with them through the hallways to the healing rooms. 

“… and Thorin, being Thorin, didn’t think twice before jumping in between and lunging at the warg and its rider. I swear the thing was mad and took off before I could get any closer. Damn thing went over a cliff. Still not sure how he didn’t crack his head open.”

Bilbo bit his lip as they entered the healing room. The smell of medicinal herbs and oils washed over him, but he only had eyes for Thorin. The king was gently transferred onto the bed in the center of the room as Oin went about and gathered up the needed herbs and creams.   
Some of his assistants were quickly getting clean bowls of water and bandages, as others were stripping Thorin of his dirty and bloody clothes. Conversations were carried on around him, but it was like he was in some sort of dream. He could feel the beat of his heart, which was pounding too quickly, and his hands were shaking. Bilbo watched as the bandages were removed.

On Thorin’s head was a deep gash that was crusted with blood, with a spectacular coloring of blue and purple and black along the side of his head. But the wound that worried Bilbo the most was the one on his dwarf’s side. It didn’t look as horrible as some sword wounds he had seen before, but it was deep and still bled profusely. A short sword or dagger perhaps. From his travels on the road - and from what he could see, peering around the healers - it didn’t look fatal, but had the potential to turn that way from infection or loss of blood. Bilbo had seen Hobbits and Men die from lesser wounds.

Bilbo wobbled on his feet and would have fallen if Dis hadn’t been there to steady him. “Steady there Bilbo. Dwalin, get me that chair and bring it here.” 

Bilbo was vaguely aware of her guiding him over to sit close enough to see Thorin and just enough out of the healers’ way.   
“Hey, hold fast. My brother is strong-willed and stone headed,” Dis said to him softly, her hand entwined with his.   
He could only nod in response and swallowed the words that were stuck in his throat. If he spoke, Bilbo knew he would break down, and he was trying to stay strong.

It was later, much later, that Bilbo let himself finally break down. After everyone had left and night had fallen. Several lanterns were still lit, as the healers would come in periodically to check on the fallen King. He sniffled quietly into the blankets while grasping an unresponsive hand. He must have fallen asleep eventually, as a gentle nudge on his shoulder had him wearily blinking awake.

“Come, Master Baggins, let me have someone take you back to your quarters to rest.”

Bilbo pulled back from that. “No, I want to stay here.”

“But…” The healer who had come in looked around but found no one to help him out in this situation. “We’ll send for you when he wakes.”

“I will stay here,” Bilbo said more firmly. 

The dwarf pursed his lips a moment before sighing and nodding his head. “Aye, very well. I think I have something more comfortable for you to sleep in at least.”

Bilbo looked at him as the dwarf went towards a chest. 

“When I was young, my sister fell and hit her head. She was unconscious for a week. We all feared she would never wake.” The healer came back with a large loose shirt and handed it to him, turning his back to give Bilbo some privacy. “I refused to leave her side. Even when my mother and father pulled me away, I snuck back into her room and would read to her, talk to her, brush her hair and do her braids, and even slept next to her holding her hand.” He heaved a sigh and gave a small chuckle. “The healer that had assisted thought it was foolish, but my parents allowed it, thinking that it would do no harm.”

Bilbo changed as listened. “Did she wake?” he asked.

The healer turned, a soft smile on his face. “Yes, and she told me she heard me and fought hard to wake up. Now, let me help you onto the bed.” Climbing next to Thorin, Bilbo was careful not to jostle him too much. “I’ll be back again before morning so you may dress before the others return.”

“Thank you, ah…?”

“Girot, son of Savot. Now rest.” 

Bilbo nodded and lay down gently, turning towards his dwarf. He sighed and then began to softly tell Thorin how his day went and how worried he was. How Dis was so strong and kept him steady. Soon he grew weary and was asleep before he knew it.

His days sped by, spent at Thorin’s side. He talked and hummed and assisted the healers in cleaning Thorin’s wounds. Dis showed him how to braid certain braids into his hair, and still there were no signs of him waking. Ori came by, bringing books that Bilbo would read aloud. Fíli and Kíli would sit with him for meals, and still, Thorin did not wake.

They were midway through the second week and he could see the light and hope in some of the other's eyes dim. Not Dis’ or the boys’, not Dwalin or even Ori, but some of the others…

Óin was still positive, and so was Girot. One particular evening, Girot was checking Thorin’s wounds and exclaiming why the King was being so stubborn and not waking. Bilbo laughed at the weak joke before it turned into a sob, and he felt a comforting arm drape around him.

“I’m sorry,” Bilbo said as he wiped at his eyes. “I can’t help it sometimes. I’ll just cry over the stupidest things.”

Girot just rubbed his back soothingly with a small chuckle. “Well, this isn’t stupid. There were times my own wife would cry over silly little things.”

“You have children?”

“Just one. My wife passed during the birthing processes.”

“I’m…I’m so sorry to hear that,” Bilbo hiccupped.

“It was the will of the maker, as is all things,” Girot sighed.

“Do you…do you really think he will wake?” Bilbo asked quietly, threading his fingers through Thorin’s.

Girot looked at him and nodded. “I do.” 

Bilbo smiled. “Goodnight, Girot, and thank you.”

“Goodnight, Bilbo.”

Bilbo curled up against Thorin’s side, a hand rubbing his large belly, a small soft kick under his palm. He took one of Thorin’s hands and placed it on his belly. “Feel that?” The baby kicked again. “That’s your child…our child. And she needs her father.” Bilbo was quiet a moment. “I need her father. I haven’t said it, not out loud at least. But….Thorin, I,” Bilbo huffed a soft laugh. “I love you. With all my heart and soul, I love you. What I did was unforgivable, but even if I am never forgiven that transgression, I am glad for it. Because if I took it back, then I would never have met you, would never have loved as deeply as I love you. It is a small price to pay to be by your side. And this child, this miracle…I once cursed myself and my omega blood, but how can a curse be so beautiful? So please wake up. I need you, our child needs you. I cannot do this alone.” As always silence answered him. Yawning, Bilbo placed his head on Thorin’s shoulder and fell asleep.

It was near morning when Bilbo woke. Someone was speaking his name, softly, if a bit gruffly. It sounded like Thorn’s voice. Bilbo sighed, thinking he was dreaming, but he bolted awake as he looked down at Thorin. Blue eyes blinked back up at him, a small smile on his face.

“Thorin?” Bilbo asked, his voice quavering slightly. He reached a hand over to cup the dwarf’s face. “Please tell me I’m not dreaming.”

“You’re not dreaming,” the roughened voice said with a smile. Bilbo flung his arms around him, which made Thorin grunt in pain, and Bilbo pulled back.

“Oh, Eru, I’m so sorry. Óin, I need to get Óin,” Bilbo said as he tried to scoot to the edge of the bed.

A hand, weakened from his long slumber but still strong enough to stop him, caught his hand. “Bilbo,” Thorin whispered. “Ghivashel.”

Tears made tracks down his cheeks, but Bilbo couldn’t stop them if he tried. He leaned over and kissed his love, his life. Foreheads rested against each other’s, for what could have been seconds or hours, they just breathed in the other.

“You came back to me,” Bilbo whispered.

“I said I would.” 

Bilbo pulled back a bit. “I, I love you.” His stomach twisted at having actually said it, but he had promised himself that he would if Thorin woke. No matter what the King’s response would be, Bilbo wasn’t going anywhere. 

But Thorin only smiled, his own blue eyes seeming a bit brighter. “I love you, as well. You are my heart and my soul, Bilbo. You are my One, and you kept me from the darkness.”

“Thorin, my Thorin,” Bilbo cried as he leaned down and kissed him softly. His whole body was filled with joy and laughter and the tears that fell were no longer sorrowful, but now were brought on by the happiness that seemed to overwhelm his soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ack, run away, run away from the fluff and luv.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo's relatives come looking for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter. Not my favorite one and kept rewriting it. So, here it is and one more chapter to go.
> 
> **beta update by Megara09**

Thorin shifted slightly on the throne, the cold, hard stone unforgiving on his wound, though it was nearly healed. Just a slight ache and another bright scar, and his head was beginning to hurt. Bilbo would have tea for him to drink when court was done, which would sooth it. To be honest, he rather liked it when his hobbit rubbed his head as he drank it.

A rush of whispers slowly filled the hall as a runner came in and went straight to Balin. Thorin tried to keep his attention on the Blue Mountain merchant before him and his appeal for relocation into Erebor. It wasn’t unusual for Dwarves from other cities to move, but certainly not very common due to familial ties and whatnot.

His eyes flicked briefly to Balin, who was talking quietly but rapidly with the runner. The young runner turned and sprinted back out of the throne room, and Balin made his way towards him. Thorin tipped his head towards him to hear whatever news seemed to be spreading through his kingdom like wildfire.

“Thorin, there is a group of Hobbits seeking audience with you. They are requesting you release Bilbo back into their care.”   
Thorin started at that and turned to look at Balin. “What?” he growled. No one was taking Bilbo away from him.

“I believe they may be relatives of his.”

“Oh,” he said quietly. Well, that was different, though his heart still hammered at the thought of meeting these other Hobbits. “Send them in immediately, Balin.” He turned towards the merchant once more. “Your request is heard and granted. It will be your responsibility to find lodging and to seek membership into the guild.”

The merchant bowed respectfully. “Thank you, your majesty, thank you.” He turned to leave then, and Thorin noticed that he had a family waiting for him near the doors. Thorin kept his attention on those doors, sitting straight on his throne despite the discomfort from his wound.

It wasn’t long before a small group of Hobbits were escorted into the throne room. An elderly Hobbit, whose hair was curly and grey, but whose eyes were still bright and determined when they locked onto Thorin’s, appeared to be in charge. He walked with a cane, which tapped on the stone walkway as he approached. Next to him was a female Hobbit, her skirts swirling around her bare feet as they approached. Behind them were four more of the small creatures. Three of them were male, the other female. They looked similar to Bilbo, with curly hair, pointed ears, and large hairy feet. Thorin could see some family resemblance, although a few of them had dark brown to black hair and one had blond. None had his love’s honeyed tresses. 

The group came to a stop, and the elder hobbit bowed. “Your majesty,” he said, “I am Thain to the clans of Baggins and Took. I have come seeking my grandson, and to give restitution for any grievance that has arisen from the actions of my kinfolk.”

“Restitution?”

The Thain nodded, and the two hobbits in the back shoved the other two forward. Thorin could see that their hands were tied before them. The woman’s face was pinched, but she kept her face towards the floor, as did the other one. “I have come to learn of some despicable methods used by these two in order to secure a contract. I learned of their deceit when the Lord’s men broke our contract and informed us that a dwarf Lord had taken Bilbo, claiming ownership of him. It took us some time, but we learned he was brought here to your kingdom. We would gladly trade these traitorous hobbits, the ones responsible for this situation, for my grandson’s safe return.”

Thorin’s heart beat quickly in his chest and his hands tightened on the end of the armrest of the throne. He opened his mouth to say something, although he still wasn’t sure what it was, when a side door burst open and Bilbo came rushing out. As much as he could rush, anyway. His belly was large, and he looked more to waddle than anything.

“Grandfather! Aunt Rose!” he cried as he moved as quickly as he could towards them. It was all tears and laughter as he hugged them, including the two younger males. He took hold of his grandfather’s hand and pulled him closer to the throne. Those hazel eyes sparkled and he quickly wiped tears from his cheeks as he looked up at him.

“Thorin, may I present my grandfather Gerontius Took, Thain of the Took and Baggins clan. This is my Great Aunt Rose, my cousin Drogo, and cousin Everard.” Thorin noticed that his eyes flicked over the other two and he wasn’t sure what to do. “And this…this is Lobelia and her husband Otho,” he said quietly.

“Welcome to Erebor,” Thorin said as he stood and walked towards them. Bilbo quickly went to his side and took his hand, which didn’t go unnoticed by the elder Hobbits. “You are welcomed guests here.” 

Balin came towards him. “The larger circular room is prepared for you, and I have ordered food to be sent up.” 

Thorin nodded at him and gestured towards the side door. “Come, I’m sure you are tired after your long journey. And there is no need for those restraints. I’m sure we can discuss a more appropriate discipline in private.”

The Thain nodded towards the two younger Hobbits, and Drogo and Everard took the bindings from the Otho and Lobelia. The Thain and Bilbo’s great aunt looked at each other a moment before following the others.

As they entered the room, Bilbo’s aunt pulled Bilbo aside. “Bilbo, dear. Let me look at you.” She stood several inches shorter than him as she looked up into his face, placing her hands on his cheeks she gazed at him. Then her hands lowered and went to his extended belly and prodded him a bit. “You’re looking healthy, and happy.”

Bilbo took her hands and gave them a squeeze. “I am.” He turned his smile back to Thorin. “I’m very happy.”

The older hobbit just grunted a “We’ll see” and took a seat next to the Thain. Bilbo sat at Thorin’s side and chatted with his cousins.

“I’m sorry to hear none of my ravens or men reached you,” Thorin said. “When I had learned the full story from Bilbo, I sent them immediately to find you.”

“Yes, well, when Lord Efron’s men learned of the betrayal,” and with that he glared over at the two accused, “they immediately evicted us. We had to quickly flee, as it wouldn’t be the first time a Lord or King decided to use us for sport. Especially when they had been deceived in such a manner.”

“I’m sorry, Grandfather,” Bilbo said quietly as he looked down at his hands. Thorin gritted his teeth before taking a deep breath through his nose and releasing it slowly. It pained and angered him what his beloved had to go through.

“Bilbo, lad, tis not your fault,” the Thain responded.

“If you hadn’t done what you did, you wouldn’t be here now,” Thorin reminded him. “So no need for that now, alright?” he said with the smallest hint of a smile. Bilbo sniffed and nodded.

“Do I take it to understand that you know which Dwarf Lord we need to speak to?” Aunt Rose inquired.

Thorin turned back to them and raised a brow.

Aunt Rose gasped as her hand flew to her mouth. “No.”

“Our humblest apologies, Your Majesty. You may exact whatever punishment you so desire on these two wretches if you allow Bilbo to be set free,” the Thain interjected.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” Thorin told him as Bilbo reached over for his hand. He raised his free hand to stop whatever the elder Hobbit was going to say. “Peace, for all is well. Bilbo is to become my consort. And I would like to propose a more permanent contract with you and your people.”

“And just what would you require from us in this contract?”

“Just that you become residents of Erebor and swear fealty to me and my consort.”

“Consort,” Rose said softly shaking her head as she glanced towards Bilbo, whose cheeks were going a soft pink.

“Truly, Bilbo? A consort to a king?” one his cousins asked - he believed it was Bongo. Bilbo ducked his head in embarrassment but nodded.

“My council and advisors are still working out the details since this is a little outside of dwarven courtship and rules. But it will be done, as we are already engaged.”

“I don’t know what to say,” the Thain said as he sat back in his chair.

“Just take some time and consider it,” Thorin told him as the door opened and Balin came in with several of the kitchen staff. They were laden with trays of food, which they placed on the table before them. Balin sat down on Thorin’s other side.

“A mountain really isn’t a place for a Hobbit-” the Thain began, but Thorin interrupted him.

“There is some land not more than a day’s ride from here that has been set aside for you. A place that I hope you can call home.”

“A permanent home?” Everard asked, eyes locked on the food in front of them.

“Thorin?” Bilbo asked as he looked over at him.

“It was to be a wedding gift, ghivashel.”

“Oh, you daft dwarf,” Bilbo sniffed as he wiped tears from his eyes. “Thank you!” Composing himself, he frowned towards the others. “Go on, dish up,” he said with a gesture toward the food, which was all they needed it seemed.

“Yes, a permanent home,” Thorin assured them with a soft smile.

“I have made accommodations for the rest of your people,” Balin interjected. “I have sent some of the men and wagons to bring them in, at least for the winter.”

“All of them?” Rose seemed surprised.

“And all you require is our allegiance?” Gerontius asked warily. 

“Yes,” Thorin assured him. “In exchange, you will have land and protection and anything else Erebor has to offer. Balin will work out the finer details with you later. For now, enjoy the meal. I’m sure Bilbo would love to catch up with all of you.”

“And what of these two?” the woman asked, motioning towards Lobelia and Otho.

Thorin glanced at them with a frown. What they did was wrong and could have ended horribly. But then he would never have met Bilbo who was now expecting his child.

“I’m sure we can discuss an appropriate punishment for them. But for now, I will leave them in your hands. If it wasn’t for them, I would never have met Bilbo.” Bilbo leaned into him and Thorin wrapped an arm around him and looked into his shiny eyes, a soft smile on his face.

Later that night, Thorin pulled his One close to him. The weather was starting to turn colder, and sometimes a cold draft could be felt through the stone Mountain. Bilbo sighed and scooted his rear end closer causing Thorin to take an interest in their position, his flaccid length slowly hardening. He growled softly in regret. “None of that now, you know what Óin said.”

Bilbo sighed and readjusted, trying not to tease. “I don’t see why we can’t, as long as we’re careful,” he complained.   
Thorin brought his hand around to place on Bilbo’s belly and was rewarded with a few kicks. He smiled and buried his head into Bilbo’s curls and inhaled deeply.

“Soon, love. Soon,” he murmured as they both drifted into a peaceful sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The baby arrives with a few more surprises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the end! With so much fluff and sweetness, you'll get a cavity.
> 
> **beta update by Megara09**

Bilbo put on his fur cloak as he prepared to head back to the castle. It was getting late and he had stayed longer than he planned on.

“Are you sure you don’t need someone to walk with you?” his cousin Primula asked. 

Bilbo smiled and gave her a quick hug, which she returned. “It’s not far, and it’s getting dark and cold out. Besides, I’ve made this trip dozen of times.”

“If you wait a few more minutes, Drogo will be here, or just wait for Bifur. You know he doesn’t like you going without him.”

“Prim, really I’m fine. It’s not that far, truly.”

“Are you sure?” She giggled, saying, “I’ve seen you walk, or more like waddle.”

“Hush you.” Bilbo couldn’t help but smile back. It was true. His belly was so big that he couldn’t walk normally anymore. It truly was more of a waddle. He placed a hand at his back and sighed. “I better get going. Thorin will be worried if I don’t show up soon, and he’ll send the guards out looking for me.”

Primula hugged him one last time as he made his way to the door. Cold air swirled into the warmth of the house as he slipped out and shut the door quickly behind him. The night air was cool and crisp, and Bilbo could see his breath as he made his way towards the castle. He pulled his fur cloak closer around him. At least they didn’t have to worry about snow within the mountain itself, but the cold did seep in. Even with the forges going, it only warmed certain areas, and really didn’t reach the outer edges of the kingdom.

His relatives had settled quite nicely within the mountain, and he had overseen the distribution of food and clothing and any other items that were needed. It was good to see the fauntlings giggle, laugh, and play again.

The dwarves were cautious at first, but as Thorin and his family, along with others from the castle, continued to help out and visit, the others slowly started communicating and interacting with the new inhabitants.

A smile spread across his face as he made his way along the path. There were a few lanterns and torches that were still lit, making the pathway a bit easier to see. A patrol would come by every so often and make sure they stayed lit in the darker quadrants for the Hobbits, as their eyesight wasn’t as good in the dark as dwarves.

Pain and fire flared along his lower back, making him gasp and stumble. Pausing, Bilbo sucked in a few gulps of air and straightened slowly. He rubbed at his lower back, which was starting to ache. After he had taken a few more steps, the pain flared again and he fell to his knees with a small cry. It was heat and fire, and it felt like his spine was being ripped out. It was enough to steal his breath as he clenched his eyes shut. When it ended, he gasped for air and pushed up onto his knees. He waited, but nothing else happened and he slowly got to his feet.

Bilbo brought his hands around to rub his belly. His back hurt and his stomach was giving small spasms, which had him worried.

It couldn’t be time, could it?

He had to make it to the castle, to one of the guardsmen so they could get him some help. Bilbo rose shakily to his feet but was only able to take a few steps when the pain flared down his spine again. He cried out and crumpled back to the ground, hands around his belly as he rode through the pain. By the time it passed, he was panting and a dull throb could be felt throughout his pelvis. Bilbo rolled over on his side, eyes closed as the cold stone pressed against his face. It actually felt good, as his body’s temperature seemed to have risen. He tried moving again, but it was no good. The pain was too much, and his body shook with it.

“Bilbo?” a voice cried out as steps ran towards him. A hand was pressed to his forehead, and his eyes blinked open to see Drogo over him, eyes wide with worry.

“The…baby,” he gasped out as another pain raced through him.

“Hold on, I’ll get help.”

Tears leaked down his face and Bilbo wished Thorin were there. A slick wetness could be felt between his legs and he rubbed his belly, hoping to relieve some of the tremors.

Footsteps neared and Drogo was next to him once more. “Oh Eru, hold on, we’ll get you back to the castle.” There were a few words spoken low and broken and when Bilbo looked he could see it was one of the guards.

“I’m gonna pick you up and carry you,” he said, and Bilbo just nodded at the words.

“Get….Aunt Rose,” he panted out to Drogo. The dwarven guard gently put his arms under Bilbo and lifted him as Drogo’s footsteps faded away. Bilbo whimpered slightly with the movement, and soon they were heading quickly towards the castle.

**

He was so hot, and the pain was unbearable. Not only did the fire radiate down his spine, but it now reached around his belly.

“Close now. The wee one is about ready,” his aunt’s voice drifted over him as the pain passed.   
He would have a few moments before it started again. A cool cloth was placed on his forehead as he panted.

“On the next contraction, you will need to push.” The voice was familiar but Bilbo didn’t have it in him to place it. The pain flared down his back and around his stomach. He cried out and couldn’t stop himself from bearing down. It hurt, and it seemed like no matter how hard he pushed nothing was happening. When the pain passed, he dropped his head back to the bed, gasping with sobs, trying to get a bit of air back into his lungs. It felt like he was trying to push an Oliphant out and it wasn’t moving.

“You’re doing well, Bilbo.”

Bilbo shook his head. He couldn’t do this. It was too much. Then the next round of pain raced through him and Bilbo screamed as he pushed. He tried to focus on those around him, but each time, it seemed like everything felt further and further away.

It felt like hours had passed as he gasped for breath. The pain was almost continuous now, and he shook his head.

“I can’t,” he murmured. “I can’t…do this. Too much. It’s too much.” Black spots were appearing on the edge of his vision and everything was out of focus. “ ‘m sorry, I…can’t….Thorin….love…” Bilbo wanted to tell Thorin how much he loved him and how sorry he was. Please let the baby live, please.

Pain flared through him and his breath was once again stolen as he screamed and pushed. The room seemed to get darker, and the voices slowly faded.

One thought filled his mind: he was going to die.

***

Thorin paced out in the adjoining room. Every scream from Bilbo was like a knife peeling away his skin. Dis was there, hands clasped in front of her, soft words escaped her as she whispered to their maker. He could see that she was worried as well, but she was doing a better job at keeping it together than he was. 

Fíli and Kíli were silent for a change, their faces pale as they glanced at the closed door. Kíli would start to chew on his fingers and Fíli would have to stop him from doing it, just to have it start all over again a few moments later. Dwalin’s face was stone, arms crossed in front of him, eyes on nothing and everything. Balin sat patiently and seemed the calmest out of all of them. Bifur leaned against a wall, his eyes glaring at the door as if he could penetrate the wood and metal and see what was happening. 

When Thorin had been told Bilbo had been rushed to Oin’s healing quarters, he had rushed down here. He had only seen Bilbo for a brief moment before being pushed out the door, to stay out of their way.

Now he could only pace and wait. Thorin gritted his teeth as Bilbo could be heard through the closed doors. He fisted his hands behind his back as he paced back to the other wall again.

The door opened and he paused, only to see Bilbo’s aunt coming towards him. She was determined, but he could also see the worry in her eyes.

“Come, you are needed,” she told him, and turned back into the room. Thorin did not hesitate as he followed after her.

Bilbo lay on the bed, face so pale he almost matched the white sheets. Thorin glanced at the bloody and discolored ones in a pile beside the bed before turning his attention back to his One.

“We’re losing him,” Rose whispered to him and Thorin’s heart just about stopped. “Keep him focused, help him get through this.”   
He nodded and slide onto the bed next to Bilbo. “Bilbo, love, look at me,” he said in a soft but commanding tone.

“Thorin?” came the weak reply.

“Yes, I’m here. Now open your eyes and look at me.”

Bilbo’s eyes fluttered open and were looking towards him. It took him a moment to focus on him. “I can’t do it….I just – “

“You can,” Thorin told him. “You can do this. You are strong and brave, and you can do this.” Thorin took his hand into his and gave a gentle squeeze, trying to pass any strength he could to his beloved. Their gazes held and then Bilbo cried out as he leaned forward and pushed. Thorin just murmured to him, encouraging him, brushing his hair from off his forehead, until he fell back onto the bed, eyes closed and gasping for breath. His eyes fluttered back open and looked at him.

“Good, very good. I’m right here with you. A few more times alright?”

“Al-alright.” Bilbo nodded and Thorin leaned over and pressed his forehead to his.

“So brave, my love. So blessed to have you here. You have made my life whole.”

Bilbo gasped as he leaned forward, pushing down, a cry leaving him with the pain. It seemed like it wasn’t going to end as his face turned red.

“Breathe, Bilbo, breathe,” someone told him.

“There, just one more….”

Bilbo fell back to the bed, gasping for air. His eyes closed but his hand was clasping to Thorin’s tightly. A small cry filled the room, and the corners of Bilbo’s mouth turned up as he opened his eyes to Thorin. They both looked down at the bottom of the bed as Óin and a few others were wiping the little one off.

“It’s a boy,” Aunt Rose exclaimed.

“A boy,” Bilbo sighed with a smile.

“A son,” Thorin said with wide eyes as he watched them place the tiny little thing in a blanket and held him out towards him.

“Go on, hold him,” Rose insisted.

Thorin reached over with hands shaking slightly as the small bundle was placed into them. So little, so tiny, the babe could fit in the palm of one of his hands. Still, small though he was, he cried with a good set of lungs, and Thorin gently rocked him until he calmed down. Thorin traced a rounded ear with his thumb and the patch of dark hair that graced his head. A small hand reached up and clutched at the tip of Thorin’s finger.

“Oh, Thorin, he’s beautiful.” 

Thorin blinked and looked down at his One. Bilbo had pillows placed behind him to prop him up into a sitting position. He turned slightly to place the small bundle into Bilbo’s hands, the Hobbit sniffling as he gently ran fingers over the infant's face and body, checking his hands and feet, all numbers intact.

“So tiny,” Thorin said, warmth blossoming through him as he gazed down at his family.

The little one yawned and his eyes blinked open to stare up at them. Thorin couldn’t help but smile down at him, reaching an arm around Bilbo and pulling him close to his side.

“Thank you,” he said softly. 

Bilbo turned to look up at him. His eyes were wet with tears and a smile on his own face, curls around his forehead still damp from the exertion of birth. Thorin leaned down and placed a soft kiss to his lips. Someone clearing their throat had him looking up towards the door to see his sister standing there, the others crowding behind her.

“May we come in?”

“Of course,” he told her. “Come meet our son.”

Dis was smiling widely as she came over to the bed, the others following. Thorin took a step back to watch them coo in awe over the little one. Bilbo passed him off to Dis, who was gushing already as Fíli and Kíli murmured that they couldn’t believe how small he was.   
Bilbo sighed and turned to look at him, holding out a hand which Thorin took hold of. His eyes blinked slowly, and he could see how exhausted his love was.

“Rest, I’ll be here when you wake.” And that was all he needed, as Bilbo closed his eyes and fell fast asleep.

**

Bilbo sat watching the scene before him, a smile on his face. They had gathered in the royal chambers, the balcony doors wide open as fireworks could be seen as they were released every now and then. It had been a grand celebration. The slight weight of his crown gracing his head reminded him of his now-official marriage to Thorin.

Thorin had created it himself, a circlet of mithril that was light and beautiful, for which he was grateful. Bilbo did not think he would be able to bear the weight of the crown that Thorin wore.

Three months since Thalin had been born, and Bilbo was finally able to move around normally. He practically spent a month in bed as his body recovered and shifted back to normal. But it had all been worth it. After the marriage, Thalin had been named and shown to the people. The celebrations were still going on as mead and food flowed through the streets of Erebor. Several small bonfires were kept going to keep the revelers warm and partying. Gold had been passed around and gifts aplenty, for the new prince and the people.

Thorin was standing next to Dwalin, deep in whatever discussion they found interesting. Dis was sitting on the couch, a giggling baby in her arms, his arms flying as he tried to grab the toy she held above him. Bilbo’s aunt sat next to her, a smile on her face. The Thain was talking with Balin, along with some of his sons, most likely discussing the spring thaw and the planting of crops. Prim and Drogo and several other Hobbits stood at the banquet table, plates filled high and mugs full. Fíli and Kíli were nowhere to be seen, but Bilbo had a strong suspicion that they would turn up and when they did it, would be to cause mischief.

How did he get so lucky?

A messenger came in and headed straight for Thorin, who listened and then looked straight at him. Bilbo frowned slightly wondering if something was wrong. Thorin murmured something back to the runner, who quickly left while Thorin headed over towards him.

“Ghivashel,” Thorin said with a smile.

“Husband,” Bilbo answered back with his own smile. (Oh,how much he loved this dwarf.)

“I have a surprise for you. I had hoped that they would have arrived here by now, but winter made it difficult.”

“They? They who?”

“Bilbo?” a familiar voice said - one that he hadn’t heard in a long time. 

He spun, eyes going wide at the female Hobbit that stood at the door. “Mother?” He couldn’t believe it. Bilbo took a step, then another and was soon running towards her, engulfing her in his arms. He couldn’t stop his tears this time as they were both reunited.

“Oh my boy, look at you,” she said as she pulled back, her eyes roaming over his face and soaking him in.   
He glanced up and saw his father standing just behind her, and he pulled him in into a hug. The three of them were crying and laughing, talking over each other.

Suddenly, Thorin was there next to him, handing him their son.

“Mother, Father, I would like for you to meet my husband. Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain. And this is your grandson, Thalin.”

Belladonna reached for the little bundle and was rewarded with a bright smile from Thalin. “Bilbo, he’s beautiful.”   
Bilbo could only smile, full of emotions as he leaned back into his husband.

“Your Highness,” Bungo said as he extended his hand towards Thorin.

“Please, we are family, just call me Thorin,” Thorin said as he clasped his hand.

“Family,” Belladonna shook her head, tears in her eyes as she looked up at Thorin. “To a King of dwarves. You have our thanks and blessing.”

“It is I that should be thanking you,” he said a bit gruffly as he snaked an arm around Bilbo’s middle. “Your son has given me something I never thought to have - a family of my own.”

“You sent for them?” Bilbo asked, bringing Thorin’s attention to his husband. 

“Yes, although it took some time. I had hoped they would have been here for the wedding.”

“Thank you, my love,” Bilbo said as he turned to look his husband in the eyes. His parents moved further into the room as his Aunt Rose welcomed them and embraced them. Bilbo could still sense some bitterness between his mother and her father, but he hoped in time that would pass.

“How did I get so lucky?” Thorin said softly. Bilbo barked out a soft chuckle. “What?” Thorin questioned. 

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Bilbo told his husband.

“Hmmmm,” Thorin hummed as he pulled him close, arms wrapping around him. “Guess that makes us both lucky.” And he leaned down, pressing his lips against his.

“Ewww, really, Uncle? Do we have to watch that?” Kíli called out as he and his brother appeared.

Bilbo smiled against Thorin’s lips, who in turn smiled as they pulled apart. They walked back over towards his parents as Thorin smacked Kíli on the back of the head. He was the lucky one. Bilbo had gained a husband, a son, and his parents, and had found a home for his family. All because he was born an omega. Maybe it wasn’t such a curse after all.


End file.
